Creep
by TheSextaEspada
Summary: What would happen if Ichigo, one of the top spies working with the government, found himself in a bind during an undercover mission? He'd have no other option but to seek out help, which he finds in a strange blue haired man (surprisingly). GrimmIchi, yaoi, OOC, violence, death, gay sex down the line, etc. Favorite, follow, and review if you enjoy (and I hope you do)!
1. The Escape

Creep, chapter one.

"The only important matter here is our end goal. If we must make some rather unethical choices along the way to achieving that, then we must, no question." The white haired man spoke, voice even; the calm before the storm. "I don't suppose you have an issue with the way I choose to bring our goal to light, do you?" Red eyes met with brown, the former flashing in subtle anger.

"You lack basic human decency, Kariya. I've never understood how you and your pack of brutes have gotten this far in the first place, and I'll never understand my choice to join you in the first place. I once thought we were the same, but I now realize that I'm so much better; I have done some deplorable things in my lifetime, yes. But I'd never harm a mere boy. Thank you for bringing me to this point of realization. I will be taking my leave now." Go Koga stood, his faded blue jeans swishing together as he stalked to the frosted glass paneled door.

A young man sighed. To everyone else in the room, it seemed like he was bored; a junior member of the Bounts that preferred cracking skulls and gunning men down over watching the political, non-violent side of things unfold. In reality, he'd been frustrated, knowing he'd have to step in and save the day when Kariya tried to kill Koga later on. It wasn't news- he'd known he'd have to save the guy as soon as he'd heard him metaphorically step out of line by questioning Kariya's morals. Ichigo really didn't understand why the mow-hawked man chose to throw his life away, seeing as he was in their little group long enough to realize that their leader was heartless enough to kill anyone for looking him the wrong way. Ichigo respected the large man enough to save his life in though- even if it cost him dearly to do so.

The temporary brunette looked around, warm amber eyes concealed in grey contacts surveying the wide space once more. They were in a conference room, sitting in computer chairs that were set up around a long, oval table. At the head, directly across from himself, was Jin Kariya, founder and "leader" of the Bounts. He was a tall, muscular man, white hair always gelled up and away from his pale face and out of his piercing red eyes, set under dark eyebrows. The 39-year-old man wore a grey dress shirt, sat under a red tie and long coat, the latter being light brown until about a fifth of the way down, where it abruptly became a navy blue until it stopped at his ankles. The ensemble was completed with plain, belted, dark brown slacks, plus black loafers. His facial features were admittedly handsome: a straight nose led to thin lips, the only thing marring his mug being a scar that trailed from the bottom of his mouth to his chin.

At his left sat a serious-looking 23-year-old man, name Maki Ichinose. He didn't look imposing at first glance, lean (deceptively so, as he could defeat most of his opponents fairly easily in hand to hand) and tall, with somewhat boyish features framed by jet black hair. He wore a near all black outfit, jeans and tight t-shirt down to plain, all-black vans. The only light area of his attire was a denim vest with a white hood, the garment showing off lightly muscled, tanned arms. His hazel eyes were pointed towards Jin at all times, always filled with admiration for the older man or something of the sort. Aforementioned arms crossed, he was always ready to un-holster the Sig Sauer that they were all required to carry. Only if Kariya had given the order though- he'd never fall out of line.

Directly opposite Maki was Koga's empty seat; the man had, for all intents and purposes, been Kariya's right hand man (before the leader had killed a teenage boy for practically no reason). Next to where Koga would've been, sat Sawatari Baura; an old man with a nasty attitude. His white hair was slicked back so it didn't hang into his black eyes, and his matching eyebrows were drawn into a dark scowl. The man was said to be ruthless when fighting, and although he looked about 80 (he was actually 52), he was cunning, fast, strong, and _dangerous._

Other members present included: A tall curvaceous woman named Yoshi Nieder, snake like features pulled up in a slight smile, olive toned thin face framed with waist length dark green hair. Extremely dangerous, but not even close to high ranking among them. Ban and Ho Gunther, pale, black haired twins aged 17, both thin and fairly short- unimposing. They were born to a woman that'd gotten in the middle of a drug deal gone wrong, aged three when they were picked up by Kariya to be trained. They nearly lived up to the soldier-like image that the leader had in mind when together, but they were practically useless when apart, putting them at the bottom of the food chain. A blonde man named Mabashi Ritz, tall, pale, and lightly muscled. Kind of an idiot and not a huge threat, but a low level danger. Ryo Utagawa, a tall, thin brunette with a goatee and semi long hair, not even close to being a threat, and again, low level danger. Last, and yes, least; Ugaki Gesell. A raven haired, bespectacled man that wasn't much of a fighter, more of a strategy sort of guy. Kariya kept him around because he fended off the weaklings, but still had a sharp enough mind to keep himself from doing grunt work, like the thugs that fought for the Bounts: dolls, Jin liked to call them.

It had taken a while for Ichigo to infiltrate this exclusive group successfully, but he'd done it. He'd become a Bount- a Bount that was close enough to the top to gather more information, no less. The brown haired (at least until he had to re-dye it for another job) 27-year-old had to pat himself on the back for this one, because it was a feat. Took damn near three years too. His plan was to skirt around in the middle of the pack to avoid being noticed and to gather information easily, but if he wanted to, he could take Jin Kariya himself down. That wasn't the order he was given though, and he wasn't stupid enough to think that bringing down the leaders would get rid of the Yakuza; Kariya had connections everywhere. No, he was just sent to spy, sniff around a little bit, and maybe pick up a few assassination jobs along the way- whatever Byakuya had in mind for him.

"I will need your attention now- all of your attention, including you- Ritz, Piasu." Ichigo snapped his head up at the use of his alias (Sanji Piasu), noting that he'd been staring off into space. Maybe he really was bored. No one had said anything worth relaying since Koga left, so he could either pretend to give a shit about small talk like Ugaki did, or space out like Mabashi had done as soon as the action was over. He'd chosen the latter, obviously.

"Thank you. As you very well know, we're moving ahead in our plans, slowly, but steadily. Seireitei's been entertaining our diversions just as we predicted, and we need to move onto the next phase. The only bad news I have for today – besides the departure of our dear friend, Koga-san, of course – is the slight setback we may experience in the future. Word has escaped that Seireitei sent an assassin over to our sector, and we suspect that he or she may be targeting us." Blood red eyes narrowed a he inspected the room, almost as he expected the assassin to pop out and press a gun to his forehead right then and there. "We're on high alert- as we should always be, but I have dolls guarding the building, posted around us as snipers. You'll need your key card at all times now as well, no exceptions. You will have your weapon on you at all times- and you _will not_ hesitate to sacrifice your life for the Bounts. Understood?"

He received the nods and affirmative noises he'd wanted from everybody present, and Ichigo filed the information he was just given away for future use. He'd have to do some investigating on the snipers and send the information to Kuchiki, just in case this was a ploy to weed out spies. After all, as far as he knew, he was the only assassin sent out, and he wasn't here to waste Kariya or any of the other Bounts. Unless some idiot was trying to stir up more shit between the Bounts and the Shinigami, there was no assassin, so he'd have to look into that as well. Seireitei didn't send morons that get themselves caught.

"Good, dismissed." And with that, the not-so-merry band of Bounts disbanded to do something else, none of them having any ties to one another. Ichigo thought it was rather sad at first, that a group that'd been together for so long couldn't tolerate each other outside of fighting and meetings. While good for any other opposing force, it was unfortunate for them.

Ichigo sighed and stood, slipping through the double doors in the middle of the pack, not leaving first nor last. If not for appearance sake, he'd have been the first out of the depressing room. He really needed to get a move on his report; Byakuya really hated when he was late, and he'd been late for the past few days. He was only making sure he had all of his information correct, but it really pissed his strict captain off when he was late for anything, most of all, his reports. That only meant that what he was about to do had to go down fast and efficiently.

He walked through the supposedly abandoned building, eyeing the crisp beige walls that surrounded him, and counting the identical doors carefully. A long while back, the building had been home to a few record labels that shared the property- but when most of them had to shut down due to financial issues, they'd left. Any company that remained deserted, choosing to go somewhere less out of the way. In their wake, they'd left the relatively large building for dead in the middle of a small cluster of other abandoned places. It was actually set to be demolished, but if you paid off and threatened the right people, you could get away with anything.

The reason he had to count the doors was this though: Kariya was a careful man. That's all there was to it. He had several forms of security set up, and while some were pretty fucking stupid, like the one he was avoiding now—some were pretty damned smart. When Kariya designed the Bount HQ after nearly gutting the old place, he made sure that everything incriminating was portable, and only a Bount would be able to enter and leave with ease- in other words, without dying. For example, if you had the misfortune to open the wrong door, the floor under you would give, and you would plummet eleven stories to the concrete basement ground. If you didn't die upon impact, someone, most likely a doll, would kill you later. It was rarely ever used unless Kariya was feeling especially sadistic, but that was the plan.

Ichigo snorted softly at the idea, still counting and walking. When it'd first been explained, he thought it was some kind of sick joke. It sounded like something from fucking Road-Runner, for god's sake. He was soon shown that it wasn't a joke though, as Kariya had brought out a petty thief and had him open a door. That'd been the last of the discussion, and the last of the petty thief.

Of course, the leader was entitled to his stupid ideas every once in a while, as Ichigo seriously doubted that you'd get past the first level if you didn't know how it worked. The building was made up of eleven floors, plus the basement. The basement was just the ground floor for the chutes though, so it didn't really serve a purpose. From floors one to four, the entire thing looked like it was actually abandoned, aside from the high ranking dolls that were disguised as homeless people milling about. If you didn't know any better, you'd fall for the homeless act, and if you suspected any wrong doing or didn't immediately leave, you'd be killed.

The first four levels weeded out the civilians, bad spies, vigilante types, bad thieves, and bad assassins. If you were good enough to get past the dolls, you'd have to go through actual guards- even higher ranking (and paid) dolls. No one had ever gotten past them while Ichigo was working for the Bounts (aside from himself, of course) and he doubted anyone ever would, not without his inside information and or, general expertise. Anyway, the fifth floor was made up of guards that protected a keycard operated door, that when opened, led to a gym of sorts. It was filled to the brim with equipment, the white walls even adorned with TV's. Various black doors led to sparring rooms for hand to hand as well, all filled with masters; stationed there just to keep the Bounts sharp. In the middle of the massive gym though, stood a tall, winding set of clear glass steps that lead to other floors.

The sixth one was a massive shooting range that was set up, again, to keep the Bounts sharp. The seventh was full of weaponry; any weapon you could possibly imagine was probably somewhere in there. The eighth was the lab, where less than legal substances were created to be pedaled out at a later date. The eighth was Ugaki's strategy floor, where his own personal set of dolls (or as he liked to call them, Shadows) planned everything from takeovers, to punishments, to allegiances with other less than legal syndicates, and cops on the payroll. The ninth was the tech room, where tons of hackers were stationed around tapping phones, hacking accounts and emails, creating fake people, and erasing real ones. They even pumped out fake ID's for kids that wanted to drink and smoke, as it was another easy source of revenue. The tenth floor was all surveillance: security feeds from various places, the alarm system, the odd, automatically locking door.

The floor he was just leaving was the eleventh. It was mostly made up of the stupid trap doors that Kariya used to deal with people that bothered him, or 'security' so he could justify it, but there were a few actual rooms. One for each of the Bounts, and and two conference rooms. The layout was pretty fucking inconvenient though. If you wanted to get anywhere at all, you needed to count the doors so you didn't fall to your death. None of the Bounts were immune to that outcome either; Kariya _-sama_ made it clear that he didn't give a shit, didn't need subordinates that were stupid enough to die in their own HQ.

The false brunette sneered at the door that lead to the stairwell, identical to the others of course, pushing open the double doors and hopping down the glass stairs three at a time. He had to move fast if he wanted to do everything he needed to. Right now, he needed to head to his car and file a full report, and right after, he'd have to hunt Koga down and help him out. Then, he had to scope out the sniper positions and extra security. _Then,_ he had to re-file his report.

Pushing open the old, rotting door with his shoulder, Ichigo slipped out once he was sure no one was looking. The HQ was in a very deserted area and there weren't many people milling about, but it was always good to be cautious. He didn't need people looking into the abandoned building out of curiosity only to be killed by a doll in disguise. He knew the others were just as cautious, even if they had different reasons. Kariya had made it clear that if one of them got caught by a clean cop, they weren't going to be saved unless he felt like they were worth the trouble. Most of the time, they weren't.

Jogging away from the few outwardly decomposing buildings, the lean man's lips twitched into a tiny smile when he saw his ride. Since it fit the persona he'd been assigned to take on, he'd been allowed to keep his car with him this time, or at least get it back later on. While he had to change the sexy, custom, electric blue paint job to a temporary silver, he still loved his 458 Italia Ferrari like it was his own kid. Spies allied with the government got paid more than you'd think, especially when they took a few odd jobs on the side.

Swinging the shiny door open, the temporary brunette slipped into the flashy vehicle and settled into the black leather. Unfortunately, he still had a job to do, and it wasn't like he could just forget about it. With a sigh, Ichigo twisted the key in the ignition, reveling in the growling purr of the engine before pulling out from behind the old, actually abandoned factory where he kept his car when Kariya forced him to turn up for work. If he was just poking around, he would take his bike, leave it a little while away, then continue on foot.

Pulling away from the building, he knew he needed to get as far away from the HQ as possible before he made the call he needed to make to his boss. Kariya and Byakuya were two people that were almost unnecessarily cautious at some points, so it was necessary to distance himself properly. In other words, he had to make sure Kariya couldn't spy, and Byakuya couldn't accuse him of being careless enough to give Kariya the opportunity to do so. Once he got on one of the near deserted roads leading back to the city and was confident that no one was around to watch, he switched the little Bluetooth on his ear with an identical one. Kariya knew he wore a Bluetooth, but the one Ichigo wore around his fake boss was only linked to his fake phone.

Tapping the glowing blue button on the side, he dialed his _actual_ boss with a sigh. When Ichigo first joined the Shinigami's ranks as a low level spy, all he was doing was protecting the two people that meant the most to him in his world- his sisters, Karin and Yuzu. Over 8 years of being with the Shinigami of course, he'd earned the grudging respect and faith of the uptight asshole, but he knew Byakuya'd never really like him.

"Kurosaki. On time, no less. What's your report?" Ichigo's eye twitched. Not that you'd ever notice that respect. Sighing, Ichigo started to relay his report anyway. Some things could never be helped.

"Kariya said that he got a tip about us sending an assassin to this sector, first off. I know he doesn't suspect me at all – he didn't exactly attempt to hide anything from me. He said he was laying on the security a little thicker, posting some snipers as well. So if you send a guy down here, make sure he's not stupid enough to act suspicious, lest he get himself gunned down. I'll check everything out later. Everyone's going to be armed from now on at all times too. Good news though; they lost a guy. Go Koga. Kariya, being the sick son of a bitch that he is, wanted him to kill a 19-year-old kid by the name of Cain. He was a grunt, or "doll" for the Bounts. He pedaled baby drugs like weed and acid. Long story short, he started pocketing some of the cash he earned once he got comfortable with his position. Kariya killed him when Koga wouldn't, and I'm betting that he'll try to kill Koga as soon as the sun goes down." Ichigo sighed, conveniently leaving out his plan to save Koga. "Get all of that, bossman?"

"Yes, thank you Kurosaki. I'll be expecting another report on the snipers, this "assassin," and Go Koga within twenty-four hours. Keep me abreast." Then the line went dead, per usual. The strict man wasn't much for goodbyes.

The brunette was speeding down the city streets at this point, as there was no time to follow traffic laws. It was never a huge problem; all he had to do was flash either his Bount keycard or his federal government ID if he got pulled over for pretty much any reason. Which was awesome. The tricky part was determining whether or not that cop was on the payroll or not. Flashing the wrong piece of plastic could blow his cover or land him in an interrogation room. Not good. He'd have to make small talk, and usually the cops on the payroll would say something along the lines of "Have you seen anything suspicious lately? I don't mean to alarm you, but there's been a bit of Yakuza activity going on in this area. We can use all of the information we can get." That would tip him off, and that was that. Still, it was a lot of trouble to go through, and while it never resulted in anything serious, it wasted his time.

Luckily, he didn't run into any trouble this time around and he was able to get to his apartment in record time. Grabbing his fake Bluetooth, he flung open the door and jumped up the stairs two at a time. He'd used government money on the place, listing it as a necessary expense – which it absolutely was. He'd sell it later (and profit), but for now, it was his home away from home.

As soon as he got into the modern apartment, he went straight to his closet. The sun was going down soon, and his first priority was to save Go Koga. Flinging open the huge double doors, he pulled a black turtleneck and black cargo pants out. He'd already kicked his feet out of his bland, all black vans at the door, so he took off his grey shirt, and finally, pulled off his dark jeans. When he went to work at HQ, or had to do anything else as Sanji Piasu, it was usually an outfit like that. Middle of the pack. Rarely any bright colors. Bland. With a shake of his head, he donned his stereotypical spy outfit complete with (you guessed it) black combat boots and leather gloves. It was evening, so nightfall would come soon, and he didn't need to stand out. His gun was strapped to his calf for his day job, but he clipped a silencer onto the muzzle so he wouldn't be heard if he actually needed to use it. Ichigo pocketed a few other things and gave himself a nod.

He knew it'd be a doll or two. Shadows, for that matter- a few of Ugaki's. He'd be smart, but not too smart- and no one would bat an eye if he died at "Koga's" hand. The plan was to guard Koga until the shadow came, and then give him the means to escape. He wouldn't blow his cover; he'd just show the former Bount that he wasn't fully allied with Kariya. Grabbing his two phones and fake Bluetooth headset, he snatched up his keys and left. He didn't have much time, and he wasn't exactly sure where Go Koga would be. Ichigo's best guess was the man would be at his house, and luckily, he'd had to find out where everyone lived for one of his earlier assignments.

Running down the steps, he tightened the – manly – ponytail he wore his short hair in when he was Sanji. Ichigo noted that it was growing dark outside as he dropped into the parking lot in record time. He jogged over to his matte black Kawasaki Ninja 300, hopped on, dropped the helmet on his head, started her up, and screeched out of the complex. He knew he could be attracting attention, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. What he was doing was risky enough without the added variable of him being late.

Koga lived a short while away from HQ, which was both inconvenient and convenient. Inconvenient because HQ was kind of far from his apartment complex, and convenient because he had to go there straight after he saw Koga, on foot no less. He figured he'd be okay if he raced through the dark streets and weaved through any traffic he came across. He was pretty damn good with his bike, which was handy in situations like this.

Once he was on the main streets, he started to think about this assassin that Kariya was babbling on about. If it was actually a Shinigami, they must be stirring up the dust on purpose. He knew the organization well, and he didn't know of any spies stupid enough to get caught like that. But what worried the brunette was, there _was_ a spy he knew of that didn't give a shit, and he was reckless enough to get himself caught. Especially if he could justify being that reckless to himself. Ichigo had a sinking feeling about who it could be, and he would beat the shit out of the man if he came around and blew his cover right out of the water. Unfortunately, he'd probably be too glad to see him to be as angry as he wanted to be. But still, that would be three years wasted.

He focused all of his attention on the road once he left the main part of the city and pulled into a dark alley. He had a mentor/friend of sorts that owned the shop in front of it and would hold his bike for him. He, along with the people that worked in his shop, were the only ones around that actually knew his identity. Plus, he was a former captain of the Shinigami himself, same rank as his own captain, Kuchiki, and he'd also taught Ichigo everything he knew. He put down the kickstand and slid his helmet off, hopping off of the thing. Ichigo banged on the dull grey door in front of him and waited for someone who worked at the shop to open up, heaving a sigh and hoping that they'd hurry for Koga's sake.

Suddenly, the door cracked open an inch, and a nasally, high-pitched voice came floating from inside. "What's the password, mister?"

Ichigo kicked open the door (and consequently the boy behind it), relieved to be able to fully drop his work persona for even a second. "Damn it, I'm in a rush, Jinta. I need you guys to keep my bike in your storeroom for a few hours. I have a few errands to run, and I don't want to be conspicuous. Where's Ururu?" He rushed out in his haste to get moving, pulling his bike in beside him without asking. This wasn't the first time he'd needed to do this, and it wouldn't be the last.

"She's in the front with Urahara and Tessai. You can't just pull your dirty motorcycle into the store! I should beat some damn sense into you, Ichigo!" The little redheaded boy got up from his newfound place on the floor, scowling at Ichigo's already retreating figure.

"At least you haven't managed to kill her yet. Bye!" He called out over his shoulder and slammed the door, referring to the way Jinta pushed around his older sister. It would be horrible to watch if Ururu couldn't beat the shit out of Jinta when she wanted to. She was just too kind spirited to do so most of the time. Urahara and Tessai never did anything to stop them either. They were a weird bunch, weird as fuck, but he loved them – even if he wouldn't admit it at gunpoint.

He started jogging through fairly unused streets and back alleys to the city's edge, where Koga lived. The man wasn't one for big flashy things (with the exception of his high tech headphones, of course) so he lived in a little apartment on the edge of Tokyo. It was run down, and it was ridiculously cheap for the amount of money that he made as a Bount, but it was awfully convenient for Ichigo. Residents wouldn't care if he made any noise, security was lax enough that there weren't any cameras, and he didn't have to do anything hard to get in. He _might_ have to break the automatic lock, and even if he did that, people would look the other way and assume he was a pissed off boyfriend or a thief.

His lips twitched when he reached the building in record time, and the rusty door was already propped open with a tattered phonebook, despite the rain that had started up seemingly as soon as he reached the building. He groaned when he though of having to go out for another few hours in that rain. If he had any semblance of luck though, Koga might've fled already, saving Ichigo a potential world of trouble. Being nice wasn't easy, especially being in the field of work that he was in. Not to mention, the weather would probably only get worse with time. Less of an issue, but still an issue.

The brunette shoved his hands in his pockets and hung his head, temporarily grey eyes discreetly surveying the near empty lobby for anything remotely suspicious. He didn't need the added stress of accidentally intercepting the shadow on his way to the apartment, because it would only mean that he'd have to drag the man or woman somewhere. Which would create a scene, because the person, whoever it may be, would probably be stupid enough pull out a gun. Then, Ichigo would have to pull out _his_ gun. It'd probably look some kind of dumb, western stand off. _Then,_ Byakuya would find out and have his head. Luckily, all he saw was a man at a P.O box, a woman that was half-assing her attempt to blow smoke out of the open door, and a teenage kid who was alternating his gaze from his phone to the lobby every five seconds.

They weren't shadows, so he quickened his pace, bypassing the elevator and bounding up the stairs two at a time until he reached the fifth floor. Ichigo tugged at his disheveled ponytail, starting towards apartment 5A. If he wasn't in tip top shape, he'd be hunched over and groaning, seeing as he only took a little under a minute to reach the fifth floor of the building. Granted, the apartments were small and subsequently, the distances between floors were too. Still, he metaphorically patted himself on the back for not feeling winded.

Ichigo finally reached the tan door with black, metal writing spelling out the apartment number drilled onto the front. The brunette gave three loud, urgent knocks. They were just out of courtesy, because he was on a mission– two in fact. He didn't have time to wait around with his thumb up his ass until the man decided to open up. So when he didn't get an immediate response, he broke out a few tools and made quick work of the lock, turning the brass plated handle with a gloved hand and praying that the doll hadn't beat him there.

He stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. His lips pulled into a frown at the quiet, sparsely furnished living room. The lights were off and there was no movement from anywhere. This was no proof that no one was home or even in the room though, so he reached down to his calf slowly, grabbing the gun and stalking around the space, noting a light on in the closed bedroom but nothing more. The other doorways were all wide open aside from that one: the bathroom, and a closet. Ichigo's footsteps were quiet as he approached the door that was radiating an incredibly soft yellow light from the bottom. Most likely, the man was pretending to be asleep and waiting to shoot the next fucker to come in. Which created a problem for him, so he decided to make his presence known.

He tapped the narrow white door with his silencer to get the man's attention, stepping out of the doorway when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. He didn't need to be shot. "It's Sanji. I'm not here to hurt you or kill you. I'm here to help you escape." With that, the door was flung open, revealing Go Koga clad in pretty much the same thing he had on, with the exception of the turtleneck. Instead, he wore a black tank top. In addition to the similar outfit, the man also carried a Sig, though his was silver and without a silencer. Which was kind of fucking careless, but the brunette kept his mouth shut.

Ichigo slid inside of the tiny bedroom, pacing back and forth once he saw the questioning look on Koga's face. "Look," He abruptly stopped. Now or never. "I know you're wondering why I'm here. I didn't exactly agree with Kariya's choices either. I figured he was gonna try to kill you, so I'm helping you out. You're a cool guy Koga, so I'm giving you a little back up." With a second of thought, he decided to tack on a warning. "If you rat me out like an asshole and prove me wrong about your character though, I'll kill you faster than you can finish your next and final sentence." Koga observed him quietly, noticing the extra care he took in putting a silencer on his pistol, and you could see cogs turning in his head when he realized he never gave Ichigo his address. The brunette waited patiently for the man to come to a conclusion, praying that it wouldn't take too long or be the wrong one.

"I believe you, Sanji." The taller man said to him hesitantly, relaxing his grip on the gun he held, even though his body language was still tense and alert. _Good._ He needed the man to be on edge and ready, but he didn't want Koga jumpy enough to accidentally shoot him. "Thanks. Here's what I think. Gesell's gonna send a couple dolls. One's going to come through this window, most likely," Ichigo gestured at the small, picture window behind a pristinely made twin sized bed, his motions illuminated by a miniature, elegant lamp sitting on a wooden bedside table.

"That's the one coming to kill you, I bet. The other's probably coming through the front to cover the first's back. No one knows I'm here, which is good. Whatever you do, don't announce my presence, and put a damn silencer on your gun. It's also only for worst case scenarios, but if you _have to shoot,_ and I recommend that you don't, we don't need the extra attention that a loud gunshot would bring. Don't say a word to me. Act like I'm a fly on the wall, because they'll probably be wearing communication devices." Ichigo strapped his gun back into the holster on his leg, pulling out a large switchblade and looking up at the shocked man before him.

"Get a knife and some gloves, and get them fast. Questions?" Ichigo pressed a button on his closed blade, nodding to himself when it flipped out silently and quickly. They probably didn't have much time. Koga looked him up and down, sighing to himself and turning to a latched security box on his dresser, grabbing what he was told to grab. "It seems very unlikely that you are who you say you are, boy. I haven't had any suspicions before this, but you're incredibly good at this kind of thing to actually be the person you appear to be. Since I'll be leaving very soon, I need you to take a few things that involve the organization with you. They're very important, but I can't leave them behind nor take them with me. All of it is stored in a warehouse on 7th and 21st, and the key's in the drawer in my nightstand. It's not much, don't worry- just a few documents that I couldn't keep here. I was planning to destroy it, but that would take too long."

Ichigo nodded solemnly, internally beaming with joy. If whatever was there was unknown information, Kuchiki would leave him alone for a long while. He adopted Sanji's personality again, pretending to be laid back, but eager for violence and blood all the same. "Thanks, Koga. Means a lot, you entrusting me with that. Got what you need to get out of the country?" The older man nodded with a small smirk as he stuffed the gun, complete with silencer (thank god) down the back of his pants. 'Sanji' smirked back, showing a top row of gleaming white teeth off. "Awesome. Now we gotta wait for these fuckers to try to come for you."

Checking his knife once more and making sure the safety was off his gun, he slid into a small closet, shutting the portal behind him and watching the room through small slits in the doors. Koga immediately started to act like he was alone, donning a pair of black rubber gloves and hiding his hunting knife. The large man laid down on his bed after closing the security box, convincingly playing the part of being asleep. Good.

Ichigo let a small smile grace his features. The man didn't have to trust him or give him any information. Hell, Go Koga could probably turn him in and save his own ass in the process. The brunette crouched down at the back of the closet, wondering how a man like this got involved in the Bounts in the first place. Of course, he knew everything that was on record; Kariya needed help with a job and was paying a vulgar amount of money to get it done, when Koga stepped up and finished it. Then, the bigger man had declined the money he would've received for the job, claiming that he only wanted to help the head of the Bounts. He'd done job after job following that event, and eventually became a member. What he wanted to know was the thought process behind the actions. Was the older man really that gracious?

He eyed said man through a crack, watching him 'sleep.' Yeah, he was. Really gracious, or a complete dumbass. With a sigh, the 27-year-old spy settled in to wait.

It wasn't long before there was a crash, the sound indicating that a window had just been broken to shards. Ichigo looked through a crack in the door, seeing a tall, broad man about Koga's size wrestling and arguing with the man himself, a revolver pistol just out of reach of the doll. The brunette sighed. He forgot to tell the man to hurry up and avoid taking too much damage, lest he not be able to escape. He was already taking punches and cuts left and right, but at least they weren't lethal.

The temporary brunette pushed open the closet doors, running into the living room quietly just as the door was kicked in, revealing a woman clad in all black, a .22 caliber in hand. Ichigo sighed. He didn't want to have to kill a lady, but she'd seen his face. The dark haired girl raised her gun, the shot only grazing Ichigo's right shoulder as he rushed her and slapped the firearm from her hand, holding her from behind. "Sorry about this, miss." He muttered into her ear after covering the mic that he knew she would be wearing. Not giving her time to respond, he popped the latch on his blade and slit her throat as painlessly as he could. She fell forward with a thump, slouching to the floor. She twitched and reached for a weapon until she was too weak, dying with a gurgling sound.

He would feel bad if he left her with her face down and her ass in the air, so he nudged the girl over to the side with his foot. He'd have to clean the place before he left, making sure there wasn't a trace of his presence there afterwards. He was lucky that Ugaki would most likely come through with more Bounts the next day and clean up the bodies, but he needed to erase the fact that he'd come here, on the off chance that someone decided to thoroughly check. Ichigo scowled and ripped the communication device off of the woman's chest and ear, crushing it beneath his boot. At least that part was taken care of.

He closed and locked the front door, walking into the bedroom and seeing the black haired doll struggling and pinned to the bed beneath a bloody Koga. Ichigo pushed his right sleeve up to compress and staunch the blood from his minor wound, mostly to prevent it from dripping everywhere. He kicked the revolver farther out of reach, taking out his own Sig and shooting the man underneath his ally clean in the temple from across the room. The man settled down, dead instantly. He was lucky he had pretty good aim, even injured. He just hoped the other gunshot that managed to ring out didn't attract any attention, because that would be the last thing they needed. Koga got off the man he had pinned, bowing to the and muttering an apology.

Ichigo walked over broke the man's communication device, making sure he didn't miss anything before he spoke. "What happened? How did…" He trailed off, motioning to Koga's bloody form. "I was trying to…I was trying to knock him out. I knew him. He was an eager young man, trying to prove himself to Ugaki… He wouldn't have stopped trying to kill me though, and I realized this." The brunette sighed. It was noble, but it was fucking stupid. Again, he wondered why this man was a former member of the Bounts. "It doesn't matter. I need you to help me get rid of any traces of my being here. I can't have Kariya find out, or I'll have to go into hiding or some shit. We only have an hour before they send someone else out." The hiding part was a blatant lie. He'd blow his cover and lose any chance for new information, then he wouldn't be able to go on any new missions. He'd still have to get his shit together and clean up though.

"I'll take care if it, my young friend. I owe you a great debt for saving my life. Just tell me what I need to do, let me bandage you up, and then go rest. You've done enough today." Hah. Ichigo really, really wished he could just "go rest," but that wasn't part of his job description. Koga started to take out medical supplies from the same security box that the silencer, gloves, and knife came from, motioning for 'Sanji' to sit. The brunette did so and started to give the bigger man a quick rundown on erasing evidence, thinking about how lucky they were that Koga had hardwood floors and no one would have to steam clean a bloody carpet. "My fingerprints won't be on anything and this gun isn't registered, so you don't need to do anything but mop with some bleach. Make sure my footprints and blood won't be anywhere if anyone checks. I'm sure you know that Gesell will take care of the bodies and blood." The younger man finished, looking down at his newly bandaged arm and smirking. "Thanks for this."

Koga got up, ignoring his own injuries and opening his nightstand. "You need not thank me. Here." Ichigo deftly caught the set of keys that was suddenly thrown towards him. There were four keys on the ring, along with a car clicker and a small key card for a storage unit. "House, P.O Box, truck, storage unit. I won't need any of them anymore. I'll get started on cleaning after you leave, Sanji. I wish you the best." The brunette looked up at Koga, grey eyes meeting black for the last time. "I'll miss ya, man." He said, patting the older man on the shoulder and making sure he had everything on his person, shoving the keys in a pocket. He then made for the window, chuckling at the bewildered look the older man gave him and jumping. The young man swung from the slick bars of the fire escape to slow his fall instead of walking down it. To save time of course. Definitely not to show off.

Once he got to the ground floor, he shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled out of the back gate of the building, surveying the scene for cop cars. If someone had called it in, he'd look incredibly suspicious walking out of the back with a torn sleeve dripping in blood. He just hoped that there weren't going to be any major road blocks, and he hoped that he wouldn't have to kill anyone else tonight.

He wasn't a killer. He didn't _like_ to kill, but he was one of the relatively few people in this world that could tolerate that burden without being a psychopath, or mentally unstable at the very least. He'd seen people go completely mad because of death, and he wasn't about to push his limits and fuck up his own head like that.

There was only one person milling about; a black haired man that was leaning against a black jeep at the curb and impatiently swinging his key ring around an index finger, glaring at the back gate in annoyance. Most likely because he was sopping wet and waiting for some girl to sneak out, as he looked pretty young and normal. Ichigo was in an even bigger hurry than he was before, seeing as it was around midnight and pouring rain. He also needed to get to the HQ and check out the security before it was light out, and he wouldn't have the ability to walk around in all black and blend into the scenery. Which meant that he didn't have time to investigate every asshole that he ran into that night.

He turned on the sidewalk, taking his gloves off in his pockets to avoid suspicion and letting his boots scratch against the pavement, moving as quickly as he could without looking weird. The sidewalk was practically deserted and the downpour hindered vision, but there was always a slim chance that someone would call him out and create a problem for him. If they did, they would probably find two dead bodies and another man trying to cover his tracks in his wake. Ichigo tugged at his hair, groaning at that possible outcome. He could slip away fairly easily, but Koga could not. They'd both come up on the streets, but he'd had enough training to fuck with the system a little.

Halfway down the deserted sidewalk the brunette froze under a street light, internally cursing himself and his own thought process. He'd gotten a little too fucking cocky again, and his senses didn't alert him to the fact that he was being _followed_. Not even at a huge distance- just a few meters. He should have _known_ that doing something this risky wouldn't be as easy as it seemed to be.

He flipped through options in his head in milliseconds, deciding on acting afraid and helpless. It could just be the odd mugger, and if he went and did something reckless, he could end up making things worse. So he turned slowly, transforming his face into a mask of fear. He had to suppress his mild shock when he realized it was the kid from before, but he pushed on. If he hesitated or betrayed his real emotions, he'd be in a deeper pile of shit than he was before. "I- I don't know what you want…" He put his hands up at his sides, stumbling back a step. "I don't really have anything on me…"

Unfortunately, the man looked wary of his act. "I don't want money or nothin'. I just wanted to ask ya what happened to ya arm there, Sanji." Things kept getting worse and worse. He'd run into a doll. A doll that was probably waiting on the others to come back. Plus, that doll had just seen him come out of the back exit; maybe he was even seen jumping down the fire escape. The only upside of the situation was the fact that the doll wasn't wearing a communication device, so he could talk freely without fear of being heard. This guy was probably here to collect a detailed report and drive back if the others got too hurt to take care of themselves. Nondescript, young, perfect. He didn't need to wear a communicator because he didn't have that big of a job. The catch was, the doll had seen his face and known his name. Meaning, if he couldn't scare the guy into silence, he'd have to kill him. The time for messing around was over.

"Fuck man. You probably should've kept your mouth shut about that. I would've let you run off if you did." Ichigo slipped his gloves back on faux casually, hiding his grimace with a huge smirk. He'd have to kill the guy, on second thought. If Kariya was looking for an assassin, scaring the doll shitless would only raise questions. The damn boy would probably be tortured. He pulled out his blade discreetly and walked up to the now fearful man, throwing his arm around the shorter guy's drenched shoulders and guiding him into a narrow alley between two buildings- away from prying eyes. He'd done himself a favor this time and checked for witnesses, cameras, sounds- the whole nine yards. There was nothing and no one around them, aside from the odd building or two. He was lucky that Koga didn't live in a heavily populated area.

"I hope you know that I'm not gonna let ya kill me like some kind of weak jackass." The man pulled out a butterfly knife as soon as they were concealed, prompting Ichigo to raise his switchblade and jump back. He really, _really_ had no time for this. If more dolls showed up, he'd be dead in the water. He'd be lucky if Kuchiki would even let him wash dishes if he fucked up that bad. So the brunette tackled the doll, crunching the man's knife wielding hand under a heavy black boot. "Fu-!" The man below him started to curse loudly before his mouth was covered and his throat was cut in a flash.

Without another word, Ichigo got up and started jogging away, distancing himself immediately and trying not to think about how he could've been friends with that guy. He couldn't now, because that guy was lying dead on the ground.

As soon as he reached the end of the alley though, his senses picked up something worrying. He scowled, turning around just in time to see the flash of a gun go off, the bullet that ripped from it piercing clean through his thigh. He moaned in pain but managed to keep standing, ripping the sleeve of his shirt off where it was already torn and tying it around his new wound. The doll stilled, the gun dropping from his good hand and his empty, pitch black eyes trained on Ichigo. The man was smirking even in death, as if saying "got you, fucker."

Ichigo knew he only had a few minutes before someone decided to investigate, so he got out of there as fast as he could, not sparing the dead man another glance. His leg killed; he knew he wouldn't make it far before it gave out. So he had to take another risk and get Koga's car. It wasn't far, and he'd seen the huge black truck on his way in. It wasn't a perfect plan in any way. He might not even make it, but he needed to. So with all the strength he could muster, he jogged to the apartment building he'd just left, pain shooting through his entire body with every step he took. At least the bullet didn't hit bone.

The fact that he looked completely insane was worrying enough, but he was probably leaving tons of evidence behind. The only consolation he had was the rain and the fact that it'd wash any blood away by the time anyone showed up.

His thigh was burning and screaming by the time that he got to the dark Chevy Silverado. The massive machine was parked at a curb a little while away from the apartment, and he'd never been so grateful to see a huge, clunky, American style truck in his life. He clumsily unlocked the door with slippery hands, trying to ignore his throbbing wound. He had to lift his body into the car with his arms alone, but he nearly groaned in relief when his weight was taken off of his wound. Ichigo cringed when he realized he'd have to drive with his left foot and left hand, because he was shot in his right leg. He was fairly ambidextrous, but he didn't like being fairly anything; especially when it came to life or death situations. He pressed his dominant hand over his wound to stop the blood flow, started her up, and sped out of the area.

Checking the time, he could've jumped in joy. The new set of dolls would be nowhere near the area yet. The brunette knew the procedure well, even though he'd missed one small detail. If no one came back within three hours of arrival, they'd send someone else out. He'd shaved off two hours when he told Koga how much time he would have, because he needed the man to rush so he'd have time to actually run away. He didn't think he himself would need the extra time, but he did, apparently. Fuck the other things he had to do tonight. He'd never get anywhere like this.

He was headed to Urahara's, which wasn't even a while away on foot, but there were a couple problems. He was starting to get lightheaded, not to mention the hand that was clamped over his thigh was soaked in blood and shaking violently. The other problem was- the same headlights had been following him for a little while. He made an experimental turn, cursing to himself when the little silver car behind him turned with him.

At that point, Ichigo realized that he had two options. The first was to lead whoever was following right to Kisuke and their merry band of idiots and let them take care of it. The second was to lose the trail. He didn't even think twice before he made a sharp hairpin turn, nearly knocking his bumper off. The silver car skidded and screeched, just righting itself when the brunette made another, winding through the streets recklessly.

Ichigo debated it for a while, considering it was pouring rain outside and nearly pitch black, but decided it was best if he shut off his headlights. It was insane, but it would help him blend in. He drove wildly, and as soon as he was about at his limit, he was sure he lost the trail. Unfortunately, he was in a suburban area with to earthly idea where he was. He hadn't paid attention to anything but the car, and he'd managed to get himself lost in a city that he knew as well as he knew his own dick. This wasn't good at all. He parked the huge truck by a curb in front of a small house, just praying that the person inside of it wasn't afraid of blood and could follow simple instructions. He'd only picked the house because there was a light on and a black dodge challenger in the driveway. Meaning it was most likely just one guy living there with no kids. If he'd chosen a house with a sedan that boasted a ton of safety features, he would've no doubt scarred the minds of a family that was just trying to sleep.

He shut the car off and hopped out, keys in hand. He had to grit his teeth to stop from yelling when he shifted his weight to his other foot. This had to be the stickiest situation he'd been in in a really long time, he thought as he limped to the house in front of him. Ichigo was sure he was a sorry sight to behold: dripping wet, limping, gritting his teeth, clutching his leg. He really hoped that whoever lived there didn't call the police.

As soon as he reached the maroon door, he banged on it so hard that he might've bruised his knuckles. He couldn't break in here. He needed help, not a fist to the face or an escort to a jail cell. This looked like a good neighborhood anyway; there was no shot in hell that he'd be able to get away with acting incredibly suspicious here.

After the thirtieth knock, the door swung open, revealing a young man. There was no denying that he was incredibly handsome: around the same height and age as himself, angular features and body- the latter clad only in white boxers. This man also had messy blue hair that reminded Ichigo of the sky, and of his usual paint job. His catlike eyes were a sharp, deep oceanic blue, and they looked annoyed as all hell as they took his pitiful form in. "What the fuck do you want?" And all of that fluffy bullshit about handsomeness flew out of the window, and the brunette was reminded that he was bleeding out on someone's porch. "I need some _help,_ asshole."He growled, gesturing at his thigh. Blood was starting to pool on the ground and his vision was starting to ebb in and out, so he had no time to be nice.

"Why the hell aren't you at a hospital?" The stranger barked out, still standing in the entranceway half naked. Ichigo scowled and bit his lip, clutching the doorframe to steady himself. He wasn't at a hospital because he didn't want anyone knowing about this mess. Urahara was option number one, but this asshole was option number two. "I just can't go, okay? Look, are you gonna watch me die on your doorstep or are you gonna let me in so I can treat this? All I need is a first aid kit and a bathtub, and I'm gone." He was planning on asking for help, but this guy probably wouldn't bother. Plus, he had no time to waste, because he was starting to feel a little…

With a heavy sigh, the guy stepped aside to let Ichigo in. As soon as the brunette let go of the doorframe though, his vision went black and he fell forward, vaguely registering a loud "Fuck!" coming from the stranger above him.

* * *

 _ **Why would you write a new story when you haven't even finished one yet? I don't know. I actually started this one before I started Stranger Blues or Seven Devils. Sooo. Yeah.**_

 _ **Ahem.**_

 _ **I hope you like this one! Updates are gonna be coming in cycles every week or so from now on, so let's look forward for that. I also have a new GrimmIchi one-shot in the works called Dumb Luck, so please keep your eye out for that.**_

 _ **With much love and cherries on top,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	2. When I'm Good and Ready

Creep, chapter 2.

Ichigo suppressed a scowl, the ability to move his facial features coming back to him first. All of the events that led up to him passing out in the middle of a stranger's home came trickling back to him slowly as he pulled himself out of a black abyss. He'd gotten shot trying to help Koga, and now he was, for all intents and purposes, lost. Fortunately, he was alive- and judging by the fact that he was lying on something soft, he could feel all of his limbs, and he was warm and dry, he was still in that blockheaded asshole's home. As soon as he was positively sure he could move, he slit his eyes open a millimeter, noting that they were dry as all hell because he still had his contacts in. At least the stranger that saved him hadn't managed to figure out his true identity.

The room he was in was large and spacious. Ichigo nearly scoffed when he realized it was furnished like a stereotypical bachelor pad; huge modern flat screen mounted above a glass TV stand that was filled with game consoles, surround sound stereo set mounted along nearly every beige wall, large, scuffed up coffee table littered with circular water damage, games and CDs filling a black metal rack beside the black leather couch he was laying on, and two huge leather lazy boys, both grey. He assumed it was around seven, judging by the light that was streaming in through heavy black curtains that hung beside the TV.

He was thankfully alone, but you could never be too careful, so he listened for any movement at all in the house before he even thought about moving himself. There was none, if you didn't count the heavy snoring coming from somewhere else in the one story home, presumably the bedroom. However, even being as dedicated as he was to staying still and pretending to be passed out still, his eyes flew wide open when he made some horrifying discoveries.

His Sig, switchblade, keys, lock pick, phones, wallet, Bluetooths, and even his fucking clothes were gone. His current outfit consisted his grey boxer-briefs, a fluffy navy blue blanket, an empty calf holster, a thick bandage around his thigh, and another that he remembered Koga putting around his upper arm. What was ten times worse, was he was handcuffed to the metal rack above his head by the arm. Something made him think that he was just sprawled out like that by choice before he realized he was immobile. _He was fucked if he didn't still have_ _…_

He slid his right hand into his hair, which had been taken out of the ponytail. He was groping around for a bobby pin, the one that he always kept on him in case he was ever in a situation in which he needed to unlock something and didn't have his lock pick. One of his mentors, Yoruichi, suggested he do so after being trapped and tortured for a day, eventually just kicking anyone close enough senseless until his chains were unlocked. Ichigo had to push down tears of happiness when his long fingers closed around a long pin nestled into his temporarily brown hair.

He slid it out, bringing it into his mouth to bite off the rubber tips and straighten it out. It tasted like you'd imagine cheap metal would, but it would get the job done before that blue haired man had time to wake up and restrain him again. As it were, he was too weak to be able to fight due to the massive amount of blood that he lost last night. Hell, he was having a tough enough time moving his body. Ichigo managed to pick the lock on the cuffs near effortlessly though, sliding his wrist out and picking the other side. He silently slipped it off of the shelf, taking it with him.

Now that that was finished, he needed to get out. He had so many things to do that day that he didn't want to piss away any more time. He'd hoped to investigate the new security sooner rather than later, but clearly, his plan had gone tits up. He'd have to wait for nightfall once more, and that would be well after 24 hours since his last report. Before dealing with that though, he needed to cover his tracks. Go Koga's truck was a huge red flag that he had any idea where the man went, and he needed to change the plates and print up a fast registration in someone's. Then he needed to clean his blood out of it, as he was sure the damn thing was drenched. That could wait though. First and foremost, he needed to find his belongings and interrogate the man that took them. Which would be a challenge, considering the fact that he was disoriented and pitifully weak.

Still, he pulled himself up, silently dropping his bare feet onto the glossy, dark, hardwood floor, noting the fact that he wasn't bloody, which was good. He needed to be fast and incredibly so, but his body felt like it was filled to the brim with lead, and he had to grip onto the walls just to stay upright. He was still in incredible pain, and his legs were shaking like he decided to replace them with thin twigs. He'd recover from this, but it'd take a few days, and he just didn't have the luxury to skip around like an idiot and twiddle his thumbs until he was well. Kariya probably wouldn't call another meeting for another two weeks though, so he didn't have to worry about explaining two bullet wounds at least. He staggered over to the white door where the source of the snoring was located after quickly using the bathroom and brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush he found, silently pushing on the silver door handle and slipping into the dark room.

Ichigo took in the small room with narrowed, bleary eyes. He nearly choked on his own spit when he read the red numbers on an LED clock nearby. It was 9:57am, and he needed to have been gone hours before that. He needed to have been gone yesterday, to be precise. He shook off his anxiety over it being so late, looking around the rest of the room. It was normal enough, nothing interesting enough to remember, if you ignored the huge snoring man in the large bed. With the direction he was facing, you could only see a bare sculpted back leading up to a long sinewy neck, hair trailing up from the nape and only growing thicker as it became a disheveled mass of sky colored locks sprawled across a pillow. The right side of his lower back was home to a large, gothic 6 tattoo. The stranger's bottom half was covered in a navy blue duvet, the color identical to the fluffy blanket the guy must've thrown over him while he was passed out and the pillowcases. Due to his shitty luck though, his stuff was nowhere to be found.

The brunette man eyed a narrow door at another wall in the bedroom, figuring that it was a closet and his stuff was no doubt there. He was incredibly unsteady on his feet, but managed to keep his steps soundless as he walked towards the tan door. Ichigo yanked it open, pleased when it didn't creak at all, and even more so when he saw a small, open duffel bag holding all of his belongings with the exception of his clothes, which were hanging on the inside of the door. They were stiff with blood and torn to shit, but thankfully dry. He located a pair of the man's black sweatpants, slipping them on after taking his boxers off (he wasn't going to take the man's underwear) and nodding to himself when they fit him, even if he had to tie the drawstring a little tighter. He also pulled a white t-shirt off the rack, trying not to snort when it fit him as well. 'It must be skin tight on him.' He thought absently, trying not to be weirded out by the fact that he was wearing some strange guy's clothing. His boots were probably at the front door, but his socks were tucked in the duffel, so he slipped the latter on.

After checking briefly to make sure the blunette man was still knocked out (sure he was snoring, but you could never be too careful), Ichigo grabbed his Sig, put the silencer back on, made sure it was loaded, and shoved his clothes into the undersized duffel bag haphazardly. He had to zip it up at a snail's pace so he didn't make much noise, which was incredibly frustrating. It was 10:15. He was moving slowly, very slowly, and he couldn't afford to. He was pretty much killing time the longer he stuck around this damn place. So as soon as the bag was zipped and he'd nipped a back belt from the man's closet, he dove into his first task of the day.

Moving as quickly and quietly as he could in his condition, Ichigo sped over to the sleeping man and cuffed his hands together as gently as he could in a beat. His being gentle about it was completely worth the extra effort and time, because the bigger man was still sound asleep when he was done. His head was starting to swim from all of the extra movement, and his thigh was throbbing painfully. He only rested until he'd belted the guy's legs together at the ankle though, vaguely realizing that the man had baby blue leg hair, and that he was only wearing boxers. As soon as that was done, he crossed his legs and leaned against a wall parallel to the bed, right next to a large window. Making sure he had his gun in sight and the most menacing look he could conjure up on his face, he decided it was now or never. "Oi! Get the fuck up!" He shouted, crossing his arms and raising his chin. It was a total act, seeing as he was out of breath and dizzy just tying the strange man up- but it was the best he had. He needed answers.

The blue haired man startled awake, his expression turning from groggy and shocked to pissed off and shocked within seconds. "What the hell? Un-cuff me and take the damn belt off of my legs, asshole!" Ichigo was genuinely impressed. The guy was practically immobile and ordering him around. Plus, there were few people on this planet that would yell at an armed stranger. This guy must be a total dumbass or have balls of steel, and it was kind of incredible either way. He wasn't about to show his awe though, deciding to raise an eyebrow. "Are you really in the position to start demanding shit of me? And I might not have cuffed you if you hadn't done it first." That was a lie. He would've restrained the guy somehow, but the man didn't need to know that.

"I did it because I didn't know who the fuck you were, and I still don't! What was I supposed to do when you passed out on my doorstep, bleeding out and armed to the teeth? Do I at least get a thank you for saving your sorry ass?" With a sigh, Ichigo unfolded his arms and scowled deeply. He did have to say thanks, and he also realized that the blunette had a point. "I get it, okay? Thanks. Who are you, by the way?" The blue haired man's irate expression withered away to a mild glare as he huffed out a sigh. "Welcome. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Now fuckin let me go."

Ichigo shook his head, nearly blanching at the feeling of it and resisting the urge to grimace. The few other times he'd nearly bled out, he'd never had to get back on his feet immediately, and the effort was taking its toll. He needed to wrap this up up. "Not yet. How old are you, how the fuck do you spell that, where do you work, and where are we?" He decided to rush through the questions he needed to ask at light speed, because he wanted to get some food and take a shower before the sun set or his body quit on him. Whichever came first.

"I'll answer any one of your stupid ass questions once you let me go. It'd be nice if you told me your name too, by the way." Ichigo rolled his eyes and took the safety off of his gun, cocking it immediately after. "Look Grimmjow, I'm kind of in a rush. I don't have time for small talk. I just need you to tell me your age, occupation, and the spelling of your name so I know where to go from here. I don't even really need the area." Grimmjow barked out a dry laugh, twisting his handsome features into a wicked smirk and showing off a top row of straight, white, sharp looking teeth. "I dare you to shoot me." He taunted, narrowing piercing blue eyes at him.

That actually caught him off guard for a split second. What was wrong with this guy? Maybe he was psychotic or suicidal. Or maybe he saw through Ichigo's act. Those catlike eyes seemed to be looking through him, and for the first time in years, he felt incredibly readable. He scowled, leveling his gun at the man on the bed, using sheer willpower to steady his right hand and tucking his left into his pocket. He shot without hesitation, the bullet piercing through the pillow a centimeter away from the man's head. "Good enough for you?" Grimmjow widened his smirk and chuckled. "I know you're not going to kill me unless you can justify it to yourself. I don't know your name, but now I know you won't do anything drastic just because you think I'm a dick. So stop waving your gun around unless you wanna use it for real."

"I missed. Don't make up stupid theories if you don't know what the hell you're talking about." Outwardly he was quick as a whip, but in reality he was shaken, and incredibly so. He'd had two conversations with the guy, and Grimmjow had read him so well that it kind of freaked him out. It was probably a good time to leave, but his pride wouldn't let him just turn tail like he should've. "Want some more chances?" The blunette grinned up at him challengingly, almost goading Ichigo into actually doing it. He hated not having the upper hand, and his control over the situation was hanging by a thread, because this strange man had managed to fuck with his mind just a little. "I don't know why you think I wouldn't hesitate to kill you, Jaegerjaquez. You don't know jack shit about me, only what you've made up."

Ichigo walked forward, not showing one ounce of the pain he was in. He needed to leave. He needed to get back to his apartment, he needed to see what was in the storage unit Koga left him, he needed to figure out who the fuck this assassin was, and he needed to file a report. He didn't have time to play with Grimmjow, although on some level he was enjoying the fact that this man seemed to see right into him, because no one had ever been able to do that. It interested him, in all honesty. He had a job to do though. So he pressed his silencer under the man's angled jaw to cut off another remark no doubt, his scowl mostly genuine now. "I don't have any more time for fun. Tell me what I need to know, or else it won't be relevant anymore." He narrowed his grey eyes, feeling a twinge of guilt at the fear that flashed over the man's face, but pushing it down. At least Grimmjow knew he wasn't bluffing (as much) anymore.

He cocked his Sig, digging it deeper under the man's jaw. "Age. Occupation. Spelling. _Now_." He snarled, mostly for effect. He'd tried to do it the easy way, but it wasn't working fast enough. The man he had at gunpoint leveled his ice blue eyes to meet his grey, and to his surprise, snarled right back at him. "Take my fucking binds off, _now_ " Ichigo groaned and decided to strike the side of the the man's face sharply with his gun, but Grimmjow continued to glare up at him defiantly. Neither one of them would give in, and he would put his life savings on that fact. The difference was, he wasn't going to kill the man that had saved his life. He could pull every mean face in the book or whip out a grenade and threaten to pull the pin, but he wasn't going to act. They both knew that.

He sighed and put the safety back on the gun, strapping it to his calf. "You're good at reading people, but so am I. You're a private person with a lot of pride, right? So if I just looked through your shit and left you tied up, you'd be pretty upset?" The bigger man didn't answer, but the expression on his face said it all. "I'll let you go if you tell me, and I'll get out of here after I make a few calls, okay?" Grimmjow sighed heavily, glowering at the ceiling. Ichigo almost cracked a smile, raising an eyebrow instead. "Twenty-six. G-r-i-m-m-j-o-w J-a-e-g-e-r-j-a-q-u-e-z. Manager of Rockin' Records, the CD store downtown. I already know, it's a shitty name." The brunette spy was relieved to see that the man wasn't lying about one word, running a hand through his hair and chuckling. He'd only wanted to make sure that Grimmjow was a normal person that wasn't associated with any organized crime or law enforcement. "Fucking finally. That wasn't too hard, was it?"

Ichigo grabbed his lock pick from the duffel and stumbled back over to the bed, thoroughly exhausted and pained from standing on a bullet wound for so long. He figured it was okay to give up the act, seeing as it hadn't gotten him anywhere. "Fucking hell. I don't know how you managed to keep that tough guy bullshit up for so long, gimpy." Grimmjow muttered, earning himself a sharp tug on his handcuffs. "Shut up and stay still." The brunette made incredibly quick work of the lock, snapping the handcuffs off and throwing them to the other side of the bed. He gave the belt similar treatment, tossing it in the same general direction as the cuffs.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, scowling at the window. Before Grimmjow had time to make a smart ass remark, he started. "Thank you. I mean it. I would've died if you didn't do what you did. Sorry I was acting like a douchebag." Thanks _and_ sorry. He should get some kind of medal. The blunette lying down behind him smirked, catlike eyes lighting up. "If you want to thank me, you can stay here until you can walk properly. Maybe you might wanna tell me your name too." Ichigo pursed his lips. He couldn't do either of those things. It felt wrong to give out his undercover name to this man, and due to his perceptive nature, the blunette would probably see through him instantaneously anyway. He had to wonder why Grimmjow didn't just look through his wallet. "I can't stay here, and I can't give out my real name for a while."

Grimmjow rolled his azure eyes, still wearing the same expression and swinging sock clad feet to the floor. "Well, let me rephrase that. I'm not letting you leave until I'm sure you won't just go out there and kill yourself. I guess I don't need your name, but I thought it would be better than Gimpy." Ichigo's eye twitched in annoyance. "You don't get it. I am leaving. I have stuff to do. Keep calling me Gimpy and I'll show you that I'm anything but."

The man beside him grinned. "Try me, Gimpy." Ichigo tackled the man onto the bed, knowing he was too weak and too slow to do anything other than pin him down once. He felt like he was going to pass out again, and as soon as his vision unfocused, the world spun around and he found himself pinned by the bigger blunette. "What's your name?" Grimmjow leaned down and purred into his ear. _Almost like he was flirting..._

Ichigo turned beet red and started to stammer out nonsense, much to his horror and chagrin. The man that had him pinned by the wrists started to snicker, and finally his instincts decided to show up to the party to save him from being embarrassed any further. He snapped his elbow into the blue haired man's jaw, prompting him to let his wrist go, thus freeing the spy to slide out from under him and hit a pressure point. He was breathing hard, and now, not only his leg hurt, but his shoulder hurt too.

Grimmjow groaned in pain, but grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down on the bed, pressing down on his shoulder hard enough to make him grit his teeth. "Don't be so fuckin' brave. You know the state you're in. If you left here now, you'd be worse off than you were yesterday, if you're actually in some kind of danger." Ichigo frowned. If the manager of a CD store could toss him around like a ragdoll, what was he going to do if he had to face an actual threat? He would get himself killed, no doubt. He sighed, rubbing his dry eyes, sitting up and watching the blunette follow. "Fuck. Okay. I still need to make some calls. I'll stay for a while though." He got up on unsteady legs, limping towards his duffel and walking back into the living room without waiting for a reply. He needed to call someone he hadn't seen in three years first, so he sat on the couch, pulled out his real phone, and clipped his headset on after dialing the number. It picked up on the first ring.

" _King! How the fuck you doing?"_ His twin brother exclaimed happily, probably through a wicked smirk.

"I'm fine, dickhead. Why the fuck're you over here stirring up trouble?" He murmured as quietly as he could, not even acknowledging Grimmjow's sudden appearance in the room.

" _How'd you know it was me?"_ Ichigo scowled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Who else would be dumb enough to be so obvious, Snowflake?" In reality, he wasn't completely sure until his idiot of a younger sibling told him outright, but no one needed to know that.

" _I really only came over here to say hiya, you know? See what's up. If ya don't want me here, I'll be happy to go…"_ Shirosaki taunted, most likely grinning ear to ear.

"You're here anyway…might as well…but if you can't explain it to Kuchiki, I won't. I also need you to run some errands for me." Ichigo muttered, still just above a whisper.

" _The fuck can't you do it?"_ His twin whined into his ear making Ichigo's annoyance increase tenfold.

"I got shot yesterday. I just need you to stop by Urahara's shop and pick up my bike, two fake license plates and a fake registration for a 2015, black Chevy Silverado in the name of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez." He spelled the name quickly, waiting until his host took a quick shower for that part. He'd explain later. "Use any address in Tokyo. I also need you to stop by the apartments on Gurōbu and Sōn, house number D15, and get me the essentials like toothpaste and shit, clothes, shoes, clips, my laptop, contact solution plus the case, and some yen. About 200,000 yen _**(1)**_. Bring it all to-" He checked his phone for a location, reading the street names off to his brother quickly. "Shuyōna and Ame. Go down Shuyōna and make a left on Ame. If you go down Ame long enough, you'll come across the Chevy, and that's where I am. Don't touch my Ferrari or else I'll break all of your grubby little fingers. I'll have two more important things for you to do after you get here, and if you can get it all done today, I'll get you a mug that says world's best brother."

He grinned when he heard Shiro's annoyed groan. _"You're real fuckin lucky I missed you, King. Fine, I'll run your damn errands."_ Ichigo's grin widened.

"You're the best, kid. I'll see you when you get here." He hung up before the man had time to complain about only being three minutes younger.

He finally noticed the smell wafting from a small, modern kitchen he'd noticed earlier. His stomach let out a loud growl, reminding him that he hadn't eaten for about twenty-four hours. Grimmjow seemed to materialize out of thin air then, blue locks dripping wet and holding a tray. "Eat this. It's 12:40 and you're obviously hungry." The man shoved the object into his lap, and Ichigo raised a brow at the plate full of mouthwatering French food resting on it. Something clicked in his head, and he suddenly realized that the blue haired man must be from France, seeing as that Jaegerjaquez wasn't exactly a Japanese name. "Thanks." He said, nearly drooling at the plate and barely registering the huge smirk on his host's face. 'Must be his default expression…' the spy thought absently, cutting a crepe with the side of a fork and popping the piece in his mouth before making another call.

He took the time that the phone was ringing as an opportunity to stuff his face, because the food was as delicious as it looked and smelled. He was halfway done with an omelet stuffed with cheese, bacon, mushrooms and peppers before Urahara decided to pick up.

" _Kisuke Urahara speaking! What can I do for you?"_ The man spoke cheerily, probably running over inventory or something. Ichigo swallowed roughly, washing the food down with a glass of water that Grimmjow had set on his tray a little while ago.

"I got shot last night, Hat and Clogs. I sent my brother over to get some stuff from your place, so don't be alarmed when Snowflake shows up. He decided it was a good idea to come to the area and make waves, so he'll be in town for a few days." He shoved another bite of food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing while Kisuke replied.

" _Straight to the point as always, I see. I assume you aren't mobile, Kurosaki-kun?"_ The man asked in the same tone of voice.

"It's not a bad wound, I just lost a little blood." He scowled at the scoff coming from Grimmjow, who was sitting in a Lazy Boy at the other end of the room, watching TV, eating, and apparently eavesdropping. "A little my ass," the blunette mumbled, taking a sip of coffee.

Ignoring the man, he carried on. "I'll be okay in a few days, don't worry. I'm just…uh…taking it easy?" He scratched his head. That's exactly what he was doing, and he didn't know what to make of it.

" _Who's forcing you to 'take it easy'?"_ You could hear the sly grin in Urahara's voice loud and clear, because the mischievous man did nothing to hide it.

It was no secret among his friends and family that he was the least patient person in the world when it came to rest and healing. As long as he could walk, he would run on fumes until he literally couldn't any more. "No one's _forcing_ me to do anything, Kisuke. I know when to rest." Grimmjow coughed a cough that sounded suspiciously like "bullshit," and Ichigo glared daggers at the man who was clearly fighting laughter.

" _Okay, I'll rephrase my question. Who's with you?"_ Kisuke asked in amusement.

"I passed out on someone's doorstep last night. The owner...um…" Grimmjow flashed him a shit eating grin, latching on to every single word that came out of his mouth. "He patched me up, and I'm…staying here to rest. For a few days, you know. I'm watching myself, don't worry." His pride wouldn't let him say that he really had no choice, as he was too weak to up and leave like he usually would, but Kisuke caught the message loud and clear. _"When's he letting you leave?"_

Ichigo's eye twitched. " _I'm_ leaving when I'm good and ready, Hat and Clogs. Just watch out for my kid brother." He ended the call, shoveling more food into his face as soon as it was over.

Ichigo suddenly felt Grimmjow's stare burning through his skin, and only succeeded in ignoring it for a couple milliseconds before he gave in. " _What?"_

The blunette shrugged. "I just noticed that you ransacked my closet." The younger man gestured to his clothing with his fork, his lips twitching up into an amused smirk. Ichigo looked down at his borrowed clothes and felt a pink tint brush across his nose. He was actually planning to steal them and leave, so he'd forgotten that he was wearing them. "Well, I can't exactly go to the mall, right?" He snapped, rubbing his face with his free hand and taking another bite with the other.

His host snorted, turning his sapphire eyes back towards The show he was watching _._ "I didn't say I cared. They…they look good on you, ya know? Keep em." Ichigo widened his grey eyes at the seemingly shameless man, grinning in genuine amusement when he saw the tips of Grimmjow's ears light up red. "Don't make that fuckin' face at me." The blunette muttered, taking a long sip out of his black mug.

"Why not? You're so _cute."_ Ichigo crooned teasingly, clearing the last bit of food off of his plate. The blunette didn't even respond, just scowled at the television, his blush darkening and spreading to his neck. He finally noticed what Grimmjow was wearing when he moved to sit the empty tray down on the coffee table, nearly laughing when he saw the little cartoon monster pajama pants paired with a back in black AC/DC shirt. "Nice PJ's by the way."

Grimmjow directed his nasty look at the brunette, who was snickering to himself. "I woulda worn my sweatpants, I couldn't find em." The bigger man growled. "Besides, my kid sister Nel got em for me when she was younger." Ichigo sobered up immediately, thinking of all the stupid stuff that Karin and Yuzu (mostly Yuzu) had gotten him over the years. He blanched. "I get it. My little sisters like to get me and my brother gifts when we go on…assignments. I have a load of stuffed animals back at my place." It wasn't like he didn't like the gifts that his baby sisters got him, it was the questions that people asked about them that annoyed him to no end.

"You have siblings?" Thankfully, Grimmjow ignored the word "assignments" in favor of asking about his family. He couldn't go into detail much, but he'd give the blunette a general idea. "Two twin sisters and an albino twin brother. Snowflake's dropping by later on so he can give me a few things and catch up, so if you're around, you'll meet him. When do you work?" His host chuckled at the nickname, answering the question after a second. "I don't have to be there unless they really need my help, or I want to. I do everything from home, pretty much. The assistant manager tells me everything I need to know." He shrugged, smirking lazily.

The brunette felt a twinge of jealousy. He never got to stay at home and work- and though he loved what he did, he missed being with family sometimes. He even missed his Goat-face of a father when it was bad enough. "So, I don't know much about you. But you know a lot about me." Grimmjow broke his train of thought with the statement. "That sounds about right." He hummed, stretching his legs out on the couch. "Fucking hell. I don't even know how you got shot, and I just let you into my house." The man muttered, his expression darkening with the realization.

Ichigo sighed, flipping through information in his head that would be safe to give out. There wasn't much of it, considering the fact that he wasn't supposed to reveal any. He could at least tell the man the watered down version of how he got shot, and maybe a few other things. "I was helping a friend of mine ditch the country because he just left the Yakuza. Two of their goons shot me, leg and shoulder. If anyone asks, you don't know anything about that. My fake name is Sanji Piasu, and if anyone asks, it isn't fake. My real eye color is light brown, and my real hair color is too unusual for me to tell you what it is. I have a job that requires me to carry some weaponry and take on a fake identity once in a while, and I'm twenty-seven. That's all I can get away with telling you." He gave Grimmjow enough to let him draw his own conclusion, but didn't spoon feed it to him. That was the best he could do.

"You don't look like a Sanji. That's a shitty cover name if you ask me." The blunette smirked at him. Ichigo snorted dryly. "Make up another name and maybe I'll use it next time." The younger man tapped his chin jokingly, pretending to really contemplate what his new undercover name would be. "Kai. You could pull off a good Kai, I think." The brunette outright laughed at that, laying down fully and propping his feet up on the armrest. "That's too normal to be a fake name. A fake name has to be sort of out there, but not too out there, you know? Sanji isn't that common, but it isn't as fuckin weird as Grimmjow, so it works." Ichigo let a megawatt grin overtake his face when Grimmjow himself knocked his uninjured leg off of it's perch.

"It's not the weirdest name in the world. I know a guy named Ulquiorra Cifer." The blue hared man shook his head, turning his gaze back to the television and starting to flip through channels. "Really?" Grimmjow nodded, finally settling on something. "He's my emo ass assistant manager. People are too afraid of him to fuck around at work, so it works. Creepy little shit. Have you ever seen _Rick and Morty_?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Ichigo's blank expression. "Never really have time for TV." He answered sheepishly, scratching at his brown locks. It was true. If he wasn't on a long mission, he was carrying out assassinations or hacking. He had a natural talent for it, but Ishida put in the work, therefore the black haired man was mainly the one who took on those types of things generally. He was second in command though. "Well, now you do. I can tell, you're one of those fuckin' people."

Ichigo scowled, turning his head towards the large screen to watch. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Grimmjow cackled at his expression, tossing the remote onto the other chair and reclining his. "You don't know how to relax, do ya? You know how to do everything but sit on your ass and do nothin, I bet." The brunette didn't answer, just stared (some would say petulantly) at the cartoon and forced himself to sink into the couch.

Soon, they were both engrossed in the show, laughing at the punchlines and throwing the occasional barb at one another. It was a good time, even though Ichigo was itching to do something work related. He didn't want to prove Grimmjow's point though, so he kept his mouth firmly shut and made the most of his being too weak to do anything productive. During a commercial though, he remembered that he had to tell the blunette about the truck. "Grimmjow?" He asked to get the man's attention.

It was three o'clock, and Shiro would probably be over soon with all of the stuff that he'd wanted. He needed to explain himself before that. "Yeah, what is it?" the man asked, looking up from a stupid commercial about kitty litter and taking a sip of the beer that he'd grabbed sometime in the past few hours. "The truck I drove here in isn't mine. The guy that had to go into hiding gave it to me as thanks, but I can't keep it forever. It's incredibly suspicious of me to suddenly have a truck identical to the one that man had. So I got fake plates for it and a registration in your name. Unless you're involved with the Yakuza in any way, it's okay for you to keep it once I change the plates and give you the fake registration. I don't really care what you do with it either. Keep it, sell it, scrap it. You can do anything with it, but I can't bring it with me." He finished, gauging the man's reaction. It wasn't the horror he was expecting; in fact, it was completely normal. Like Ichigo'd just told him that he'd stubbed his toe.

Grimmjow pursed his lips and nodded. "Okay. I'll probably sell it. It looks to be in pretty good condition." The man replied cavalierly. "Show's back on." _What the fuck?_

To be fair, he already knew Grimmjow wasn't your average, everyday guy. No one in their right mind would taunt a man that was holding a gun to their head. It just unnerved him just how okay with everything the man was. He felt like he could tell the blunette anything and he wouldn't blink. Something was telling him that he needed to run a background check on the man, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea or a bad habit.

Just as he was about to give in and text Ishida with an order to do it, someone started banging on the door continuously, as if he were trying to break it down. "Is that your brother? Does that run in the fuckin family or something?" Grimmjow griped, scowling at the burgundy door. Ichigo grinned widely and ignored the complaint, getting up and limping towards the entrance as fast as he could. He threw the door open, revealing his smirking twin brother, the albino man wearing dark aviator Rayban sunglasses to hide his strange eye color, a black t-shirt and ripped denim jeans. Before even coming in or taking his all black Nikes off at the door, the white haired man jumped his older brother, nearly tackling him to the floor. "It's been too fuckin long, King!" He exclaimed in his hoarse voice, hugging his sibling tightly.

"Yeah, it has been," Ichigo agreed, rolling his eyes to disguise the fact that they were a little wet. They were inseparable before they really started to go on missions, and it was weird for them to not see each other for lengthy periods of time. He blinked the tears away before anyone in the room noticed, hugging Shiro back. "I can't believe you came around, dumbass." he said, forgetting about Grimmjow's presence for a while. He stepped back to look at his brother, noticing he was fighting tears behind the shades too, but still smirking. "What the fuck am I gonna do if you destroy three years of my hard work, Snowflake?" He punched the man half heartedly in the shoulder. They both realized that it was less about his cover, and more about his protective streak. There'd be some serious consequences if someone from Seireitei got caught in this area, as it wasn't a secret that Shinigami were assassins and spies.

"I know, I know. Just got off a mission though, and I was in the area." Shirosaki said cheerily, leaning against the doorway. Ichigo just shook his head at his little brother's idiocy, noticing that it'd started to swim again. "Come in," He said before he went back inside to sit on the couch, waiting for Shiro to take off his shoes, grab a large, bright orange duffle bag that he'd dropped to the bloodless ground, and follow him. He guessed the rain washed away the evidence of what happened last night. "Thought you'd appreciate the color," He cackled at his brother's glare, setting the object on the floor and sitting beside him. The white haired man looked up, suddenly, addressing the blue haired one sat in the recliner beside them, who Ichigo had forgotten up until that point. He looked incredibly uncomfortable as he nursed his beer and obviously tried to give the twins their space. "Fuck're you?" He growled, glaring at the man that sat beside them. Grimmjow apparently took that as a challenge, mirroring the menacing look. "Why should you give a damn?"

The brunette figured it would be a good time to introduce them properly, seeing as they looked about ready to kill each other. "Snowflake, this is Grimmjow. After I got shot, I passed out on his doorstep. He patched me up and let me stay here." He gave his brother a look that basically read "watch what you say, but it's safe here." The albino gave the blunette a long, suspicious scowl before nodding. "Grimmjow, this is my brother. I can't give you his real name because we share the same occupation, but you can call him Snowball or Printer Paper. I personally like Tighty Whitey the best, but one of our little sisters trademarked it." Ichigo smirked at his brother. Shirosaki scowled, his expression a pale copy of his brother's usual one. "I dare ya to call me any one of those names. I'll blow ya fuckin' brains out. Call me S." He said after thinking for a moment, then sniggered. "I bet King didn't tell you what his shitty nickname is, did he?"

Ichigo frowned instantly at the reappearance of Grimmjow's shit eating grin, deciding to change the subject before his brother embarrassed him and blew his cover all at once. "Did you get everything I asked you to get?" He unzipped the bag, pulling out his laptop, the charger, and a smaller bag that was presumably full of essentials. "Yup. Nice of you to stick me with your work as soon as I finish mine," The albino muttered, pushing his sunglasses up on his face. "If I take these off, am I gonna freak out your new friend?" Ichigo was about to to reply, but Grimmjow beat him to the punch. "What, are your eyes red? I think I can handle myself." He said dryly. Shirosaki started cackling again, shaking his head. "I hope I don't disappoint you," He said, slipping his glasses off and opening his gold on black eyes wide at the blunette.

"Weird." The younger man turned his gaze back towards the TV casually, where some other cartoon was playing. Ichigo started howling with laughter at the short comment, only because he knew how much that must've stung his brother's ego. The eyes were a point of pride to him because they either scared people away or made him look 'exotic' enough to attract them by the boatload. He'd even had to start wearing the glasses to blend in. So on the rare occasion that people were indifferent to them, he got incredibly sulky. "Fuck you." He pouted, his mood flipping on a dime from 'cocky assassin' to 'moody teenager.'

"Stop…being such a…woman…" Ichigo chortled, inspecting the license plates for mistakes and earning himself a hard, deliberate punch to his injured shoulder. The brunette hissed in pain, smacking his brother's arm sharply with one of the metal plates. The white bandage on his own arm started turning red rapidly, and he cursed lowly, rolling up his sleeve. "Grimmjow, have any more gauze?" The man in question looked up, glaring at a sheepish looking Shiro and making a noise of affirmation before walking to another room. "You could've thought of something better, asshole. I've already lost too much blood."

"He's _your_ lover boy _,_ ain't he? I didn't know how else to do it. Plus, the opportunity presented itself. What're the other two things ya need, King?" Shiro grinned, leaning back on the couch and looking at his brother, who had his hand clamped around the bandage to to staunch the blood flow.

He didn't have time to deny the first statement, which is probably why his brother brought it up now. With a sigh, he just answered the question. "I need you to go to the storage place on 7th and 21st. I'll give you a keycard so you can find the unit, and if anyone asks, you're Go Koga. Bring me back whatever's inside. I also need you to go to the Bount HQ and investigate some snipers that're posted around it. The HQ used to be _Star Central._ Just google it. Don't even glance at the headquarters, and don't get yourself hurt. It's abandoned, so look like you belong. Cover your hair with a bucket hat or something so no one recognizes you." Ichigo rushed it out so quickly and quietly that no one else would be able to understand, but his brother nodded solemnly. "I trust you. Don't fuck up, Shiro-nii." Which, in Ichigo speak, meant "I'm incredibly worried about you, so be careful."

"Stop mother henning me. I'll be fine, Ichi-nii." Shirosaki assured his older brother with a sigh, mussing his brown hair. "Nice dye job by the way. So, how much does pea-brain in there know?" Ichigo chuckled nervously. Had it been anyone else, he probably would've been gone the minute he was done with interrogating, not giving out information left and right. "Don't call him that. He probably has a general idea of what we do, but he doesn't know our names. He knows our ages though, and the fact that my name's fake. He also knows about Karin and Yuzu, but again, no names. The only other thing he knows about me is my eye color. He's not Yakuza or Government, so it's okay for him to know that much. Any more would just put him in danger." The older twin shrugged, ignoring Shirosaki's shocked gaze. Grimmjow entered the room again with a first aid kit and a small bowl just as the blood was starting to flow freely through his fingers, making the brunette groan as his vision darkened.

"Give me that," Shiro tugged at the white box in the blunette's hands, who, to his surprise, didn't let go. "Why should I? it's your fault that he's bleeding all over my damned house! _Again._ " Ichigo shook his head to clear it, only succeeding in muddying it up more. At this rate, he was going to pass out again, and neither one of them were being of any help. "Snowflake, the keys are in the bag under the armrest. Put the plates on the truck before and switch out the old registration for the new one before you leave. When you come back, bring some sake and we'll catch up. If Grimm wants to help, let him- even though he's an ass for worrying about his furniture while I'm essentially dying. Be careful, little brother." He broke up their childish bickering, not even realizing the nickname he'd given his host. An eerie grin broke out on his brother's face, and a cocky one broke out on Grimmjow's.

"You got it, King." Shiro sniggered, picking up the keys, plates, and registration on his way out. "Your bike's outside by the way. Urahara gave it a tune up and left a care package with me. It's in the bag. I'll be back later tonight with the other thing." With that, he left, slamming the door behind him.

"Don't take it the wrong way," Grimmjow murmured as soon as the albino was gone, sitting on the couch and peeling the bloody bandages off of his shoulder. "But your brother's a fucking asshole." Ichigo chuckled weakly, sinking back into the plush cushions behind him. He grabbed the bag of essentials, pulling out his black contact lens case. "Yeah, he is. He's been a pain in the ass for as long as I can remember, so it isn't new." The brunette reached up and took each contact lens out as his host cleaned his wound with warm water and a washcloth. "This needs stitches." The blue haired man told him, not looking up and opening up the first aid kit. "Do you know how to do that?" The older man eyed the younger, watching him pull a curved needle and a spool of surgical thread out of the white box. "How do you think I fixed that bullet wound? Magic?"

"Where the hell did you learn to put in stitches?" Ichigo raised a brown eyebrow. Embarrassingly enough, he'd had to dye those too, as they naturally grew in a dark orange. Grimmjow assessed the wound again, threading the needle quickly. "A guy named Szayelaporro Granz taught me. Szayel's a med student, but he's so good at what he does, he's started patching people up on the side for some extra money. That is, if you aren't too afraid of the fucker to let him get near you. I wouldn't blame you if you were." The blue haired man muttered, holding the dark blue cloth to his arm and finally looking up. "Wow. You did not lie…" the younger man looked into his eyes for a second, and the spy thought he caught sight of a faint blush before the blunette looked back down. "Do you want to take a shot before I start? I'm sure you know that this ain't gonna be pleasant."

Ichigo sighed and replied in the negative, wanting to get it over with. "Just be fast, okay? Don't drag it out." He muttered, frowning. Fast Grimmjow was. After about five minutes of being stabbed by a needle and trying to focus on anything else but that, he was informed that he had 11 stitches in his arm and wrapped back up in a clean bandage. The blunette put the supplies he'd used on the coffee table. "You hungry?" He asked the brunette suddenly, who was now curled up on his end of the couch under the blue blanket, cold due to blood loss.

"Yeah. Why, what time is it?" Ichigo asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "Five o'clock." It felt like all the color had drained out of his face then. He forgot to file his report to Kuchiki. Again. He was going to be sick. "Are you okay?" Grimmjow asked, looking genuinely concerned. He must've looked like he'd seen a ghost, so he didn't blame the man for worrying. "No," he choked out, grabbing his phone almost mechanically and clipping his Bluetooth onto his ear. He threw the thick money clip full of yen that Shiro had brought him to his host, who caught it deftly. "Go in the other room and order some food for us please. I really don't care what it is, I just need to call my boss." He sat up straight and put his feet on the floor, looking at the blunette pleadingly. At the look, the man grimaced and left without a word, seeming to get it.

Taking a deep breath, he selected the name "Bossman" from his contact list and pressed the call button. Byakuya was going to be pissed, and there was nothing he could do about it but pray that it went to voicemail, or someone else picked up. He had no such luck.

" _Kurosaki. You're late. It is imperative that you do not lollygag while on a mission. Information changes by the second, and I am positive you know that. Maybe I should demote you to teach you that lesson if you do not."_ The raven haired captain growled through the phone.

"I'm sorry," He said fearfully, rushing on to explain. "I got injured. One of the dolls, the thugs for the Bounts, mistook me for a thief and shot me. I nearly bled out. I'm getting right on the report, Kuchiki. I did manage to find out who the assassin was though. Shirosaki Kurosaki. The idiot came over after his last mission looking for me and a doll reported him as an assassin, no doubt. I'll keep him in check, don't worry. He hasn't done anything stupid but show up, and he hasn't compromised me. There's no need to be upset with him; he's my responsibility." He whispered out in one nervous breath, trying to calm his boss down before he got angrier than he was before. He couldn't tell the man the real reason he was shot of course, but he could give out just enough to explain the injury.

Kuchiki sighed heavily. _"I understand. I suppose you have a reason. Avoid being late in the future, Kurosaki. I'm holding you to your word. Control your brother, or there will be serious repercussions. Not just on my end. Get some rest, but make sure your duties are taken care of."_ Then the call ended.

He eyed the phone in his hand dumbly, like it'd just sprouted horns. He'd gotten off ridiculously easily. Normally if he'd said something like that, the captain would have his head for being an an incompetent fool and drawing attention to himself. He had no idea why the man was being _understanding_ of all things. He was never understanding. "Grimm, you can come back in!" He raised his voice and called his host back in the room, counting the steps he had to take back to the room. He was satisfied that the man had listened and gone out of earshot, so he threw his phone into his bag and rubbed the back of his head, still shocked.

"When did you start calling me Grimm?" the blue haired man asked, sitting back on the couch next to him. Ichigo shrugged, still too confused to answer. "I told him I got shot, and he…he told me to _get some_ _rest._ He's never like that…" He trailed off, shutting his eyes and leaning against the back of the couch. Grimmjow let out an amused breath. "You're overthinking it. I was right, you don't know how to relax. I ordered a pizza and took out 2,000 yen for it. Here." The money clip landed on his lap, and Ichigo nodded. "I know _how;_ I just don't do it often. I'm on an assignment. I shouldn't be sitting around doing nothing. I feel fucking useless." He complained, dropping his head into his hands. He was subconsciously hoping Byakuya would tell him to get his ass in gear, he realized. Then he'd force himself to get off this couch and see how his baby brother was fairing.

"Wait!" He decided to grab his laptop and check the security cameras around the Bount HQ. He could watch Shiro from there. The realization made him smile minutely. He could still do things. He set the piece of machinery on Grimmjow's coffee table, answering the man's questioning look quickly. "Just because I'm not leaving this house, doesn't mean I have to be useless." Ichigo chuckled, entering the first six long, complicated passwords. He went to great lengths to make sure his computer was un-hackable because he always took it on missions with him. That's why he'd encrypted it seven times. "Ain't that overkill? Who the fuck's gonna be looking at something that you've basically got on you all the time?"

The brunette rolled his eyes. "No, it isn't overkill. If someone tried to hack my computer from a distance, they'd have to go through seven passwords, all roughly 50 characters each. This one thing has a lot of information on it, so I'd go to extreme measures protect it. Look." He shoved the computer into Grimmjow's lap, smirking a little when the man looked at the factory set computer screen frustrated, clicking through empty or useless files and folders. "The fuck am I supposed to be looking at?" Ichigo snatched the device back, clicking on the clock in the corner of the screen nine times, only to be met with another password bar. "You didn't know where to look. I have a fully functional fake account layered on top of my real one, because you can't take any chances in my profession."

He entered in another long password, and the screen faded to black before a picture of his family in Paris popped up, him and Shiro standing in front of the Eiffel tower on the screen and resting their elbows on the shoulders of the other set of twins. Karin looked bored, but happy with one arm around Ichigo's midsection and the other around Yuzu's. Yuzu was grinning ear to ear with one hand on her hip and the other around Shirosaki's middle, covered head to toe with tacky tourist junk. Shiro was grinning wickedly at the camera behind his sunglasses, all of his bright white teeth on display as he flipped the bird to anyone who had the misfortune of walking in front of them that day. Even Ichigo was sporting a small grin, clutching a map in his left hand. He and Shiro were on a mission in France that wasn't particularly dangerous five years ago, so they'd decided to bring the the girls along. Ichigo had his hair dyed black and was wearing a pair of flat blue contacts and rectangular glasses, while Shiro had his hair dyed a light brown. Even so, it was blatantly obvious who was who to anyone who'd ever met the pair. He let Grimmjow see, as it was relatively harmless.

Grimmjow groaned when he saw the picture, muttering "fuckin' tourists," in French. For some odd reason, the larger man seemed to think that a spy couldn't speak the language fluently, among many others. Ichigo scowled, catching the man off guard when he responded in the same language. "Fucking dumbass." Kaleidoscopic blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and that was enough to get the brunette's mood to lift back to entertained. "Now let's see here…" He murmured to himself, switching back to Japanese and opening a shortcut that took him to the feed from various security cameras all around the Bount HQ. He left it open on the coffee table. "Jaegerjaquez. I'm going to leave this on, but touch it, and I'll have to kill you. Don't think that I'm bluffing this time either; like I said, there's a lot of sensitive information on this thing. If you get curious and start to fuck around, I'll literally have no choice." The older man said seriously, sitting back on the couch and waiting for a reply.

"Why would I want to touch that hunk of shit anyway?" The man said with a smirk, and that brought Ichigo's scowl back pretty quickly. The computer was a silver 2007 model Dell Inspiron, and it looked pretty clunky and old. "It's not a hunk of shit; I gave it a complete tune up," he hissed, figuring that was the guarantee that Grimmjow would leave his belongings alone. With the words tune up, Ichigo recalled the care package Urahara supposedly left for him. "Watch the screen. If you see Snowflake on it, tell me right away." Without waiting for a response, he sifted through the contents of the bag until he came across a medium sized green and white striped box. "Tch. Classic Hat and Clogs." He muttered.

Grimmjow was watching the screen intently, so he turned his full attention to the box sitting on his uninjured leg. Ichigo slid the top off, rolling his eyes as he saw the objects that had settled on top. Brown hair dye and grey contacts with big, blocky letters on each, spelling out the name Tessai. He pushed that aside, happy when he saw two packs of mango Hi-Chews in the box, Ururu's name written on them in an elegant script. Two of his favorite energy drinks were there too, the chicken scratch on them shitty and unintelligible- from Jinta, no doubt. At the bottom sat a stuffed envelope, Kisuke written on it in scratchy script. Ichigo opened the folded piece of parchment, not knowing if he wanted to laugh or cry at the contents.

It was a thick wad of yen, a note, and about five condoms. He flushed in anger and embarrassment, glad that Grimmjow still had his eyes glued to the screen. What the hell would he do with condoms? Was he meant to have sex with Grimmjow? Probably, knowing the former Captain.

It was no secret that he was bisexual, as it'd often be necessary to have relations with people on missions, and he'd never been outright repulsed when asked to do so with men. When a friend at work by the name of Renji had questioned his sexuality, he'd just shrugged and said he was into both. The news had spread like wildfire, and everyone that knew Ichigo in some way or another knew about his fluid preferences. Which is why Urahara had no qualms teasing him about fucking his host, apparently. The next time he laid eyes on the middle aged platinum blonde, he'd finally snap and kill the man for all of his antics. Then, he'd kill his loudmouth of a friend for revealing that he swung both ways to practically the entire agency.

Hoping the note inside would redeem the stupidity of the envelope's contents, he pulled it out, blowing out a sigh. It was a small piece of cardstock, no bigger than the size of a playing card. The scrawl was undeniably the eccentric man's, so he scanned it quickly, his ever present scowl growing deeper by the second.

 _Young student,_

 _While it's unfortunate that you've been injured recently, I think you should have some fun while you're out of commission. Bear in mind that you should be safe though! ;)_

 _Love,_

 _Kisuke U._

Ichigo'd figured out that it was essentially code for "be careful while you're injured and around a stranger," but it pissed him off to no end that the man had made it his business to fluster him in the process. He crushed the small note into his palm, the sharp edges of the cardstock digging into his flesh. Urahara's strange brand of protectiveness only served to piss him off sometimes, and while that was probably the intent behind the message, he was still annoyed that the man had had the nerve to send condoms to him. The yen compensated for the stupidity though; he could tell it was a lot, much more than a 'humble shopkeeper' would be able to give away.

He was still trying to decide how exactly he would kill the man when Grimmjow got his attention, roughly breaking him out of his murderous thoughts. "That the fuckin Snowball?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and jabbing a long pointer finger at the screen in front of them. It wasn't Shirosaki Kurosaki if you didn't know what to look for, the ash white hair concealed by a pale grey hat at Ichigo's suggestion. His clothes were tattered and worn, cheap, plastic sunglasses replacing his usual Raybans to conceal his eyes. He really did look like a homeless person to Ichigo's surprise, and he knew it annoyed his twin to no end. At least he'd actually listened for once. He smirked subtly.

"Yes, that would be the fuckin Snowball." The brunette watched as he glanced at all of the buildings, like he was trying to find a place to stay in a way that actually befit the character he was playing. Shiro glance around the compound once more, shaking his head like he'd decided nothing interested him, and passed through. The figure made sure to pass straight through too, not doubling back the way he came, thank god. That would be downright suspicious for someone who seemingly had nowhere to go. For good measure, he'd added a limp and hunched over posture, dragging his left foot through the cracked roads of the abandoned place.

Ichigo couldn't have been more proud of his little brother.

He shut window open on the laptop with a relieved sigh after putting away the annoying "gift" from his mentor. He himself hadn't even realized how anxious he was about his brother's success on this mission. "Thank Kami-sama." He muttered to himself, opening up another window on his computer. "What're you doing?" Grimmjow asked him curiously, as he started typing seemingly random numbers into a search bar. Debating on whether or not he should answer, he hit enter. Shrugging, he bit his lip. How harmful could it be to give a vague explanation? "I'm working for some guys right now, and I use the term working for very loosely. Since I'm not really affiliated with them, I'm making sure there's no drastic change in their bank accounts."

The blue haired man's eyes widened dramatically, him scooting closer to Ichigo to get a better look. "What the hell? How can you do that?" the brunette shook his head trying to dispel the light blush that'd appeared both at the amazement in Grimmjow's voice, and the proximity. _He wouldn't even be thinking that way if it weren't for Urahara-_ "I'm a pretty good hacker. Sort of have a knack for it." He abruptly cut off his own thoughts before they started involuntarily entertaining the idea of using Urahara's gift. He clicked through each one of the Bounts' bank accounts, frowning. When he'd started this mission, he'd grouped the accounts together and labeled them with initials, just so he could see everything at once. He'd even put a live counter on all of the numbers, including his. That's why he could immediately tell that something was very off.

He vaguely registered the doorbell ringing (he hadn't even realized there _was_ a doorbell) and Grimmjow getting up, telling him that the pizza was there. He inspected the large numbers, watching as they all steadily rose (even his), not stopping for a second. What horrified him the most was not the vulgar amount of money on the screen, but the fact that Koga's initials were replaced with the initials: A.S. All of the joy that'd built up in his system from hanging out with Grimmjow and seeing his brother drained out of him, almost like someone came up and rudely pulled the plug. Metaphorically speaking, someone did, and his good mood dissipated quickly.

He knew of only one person in the world who could join the Bounts so easily, such a natural leader and powerful man that there was no choice but to obey him, if not bow down and call him _sama._ That one person, just happened to share the same initials of the new account that had replaced Go Koga's. What was supposed to be a casual check of the accounts had turned into a terrifying discovery.

 _Aizen was back._ And judging from the rapidly increasing numbers on the screen, he was back and better than ever.

* * *

 _ **So, I'm trying to balance this between fun and serious. I'll get the hang of it soon enough…hopefully ;-;**_

 _ **If you're reading any of my other stories, I should note that while they aren't exactly on hiatus, this one has taken top priority because it's so interesting to me personally. I love my other babies, but you know…everyone has a favorite creation**_

 _ **Thanks for the support! I had no idea how this was going to do, so- heh. We'll see. I'm going to make the next chapter backstory oriented, because I know you guys are like "WTF, how does Aizen fit in with the plot?" Don't worry, I have a plan.**_

 _ **1) Ichigo asked Shiro for a little under 2000 dollars in yen.**_

 _ **Review, fave, and follow if ya like it! :)**_

 _ **Much love and kisses,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	3. Aizen!

Creep, Chapter 3.

" _Aizen!"_ Ichigo growled, his fist shooting out and sending the metal media rack beside the sofa toppling over and crashing into a nearby wall, not even noticing the many cuts he'd gotten across his knuckles. He'd helped put the guy away a little over six years ago for manslaughter. He'd killed his own wife, Momo Hinamori, in cold blood. The man was a monster. He'd even pleaded guilty at the stand, stating calmly that he'd killed the sweet, diminutive woman because he "had no use for her anymore." He had to force down bile at the memory, clearly recalling that day; he'd watched the trial through security footage and read the transcripts. Sosuke Aizen had looked anything but remorseful, and while he had his suspicions then, he let them go. He'd assumed the man would be in prison for at least the duration of his 40-year life sentence, and _maybe_ on parole after that. There the man was though, the initials flashing on his screen and showing him that the man was sure as shit not locked away anymore.

Grimmjow had frozen oddly at the door, grabbing the pizza and setting it down on whatever flat surface he could find before approaching his guest, his attitude only accurately described by the phrase 'the quiet before a storm.' Ichigo didn't even notice, muttering curses under his breath and clenching his now bloody fist repeatedly. _A.S. A.S. A.S._ The natural brunette with muddy, flat eyes was easily one of the evilest people he'd ever laid his eyes on. He'd had the misfortune of looking the man straight in the face once, and all he'd seen was psychotic joy and emptiness. Killing his wife was the worst of his known crimes, but the tamest of them all. Lucky for Aizen, that's all they caught him on.

"Sosuke? Aizen Sosuke?" The blunette beside him asked bluntly, startling Ichigo out of his homicidal rage. The brunette nodded slowly, slightly shocked that Grimmjow even knew about the guy. "Vile fuckin' man."

With mumbled words of agreement, Ichigo turned to face him. "How do you know that?" The blue haired man took his bleeding hand, grabbing the discarded first aid kit and removing some gauze. With a deep breath and a grimace, Grimmjow started wrapping the new one. "The bastard got me sent to prison," he said lowly, voice monotone and hollow.

* * *

 _Grimmjow doubled over in laughter. Nnoitra was telling him about fucking a guy named Shinji Hirako with a harsh scowl, frustration evident on his face when he was describing how flamboyant the man acted. Apparently, his actions had only gotten worse while doing the dirty, and the fact that he was just so over the top had made him feel like he was fucking a woman._

" _Oooh, Nnoi-sama! Just like that, baby!" The lanky man mocked. "It was fuckin weird. I thought he'd stop doing that shit when I got in his tight ass pants." He groused. He'd seen the guy in a picture and admittedly, he was one of the hotter twinks he'd seen in his lifetime; even though he was into stronger looking guys, he'd probably sleep with the man if given the chance. He'd have to put in earplugs or some shit though._

"… _So I'm gonna see 'im again tomorrow." Grimmjow wasn't even fazed by the fact that he was going back to the guy after that. The man couldn't keep his dick in his pants for shit, mostly because he didn't try. Strangely, he'd seen something in his friend's gaze that wasn't pure lust. Maybe there was more to it than sex? He smirked, looking up at his taller friend teasingly._

" _To sleep with? Or to have a picnic with?" He grinned wolfishly at the look on the man's face, dodging a wild swing aimed at his head. Nnoitra narrowed his already thin violet eyes and his wide mouth stretched into a piano toothed grin, making for an expression that would scare anyone besides Grimmjow himself- who only raised an eyebrow and dodged another haymaker aimed at his straight nose._

" _What the fuck makes ya think that you can-" The raven stopped his sentence halfway through, sensing something threatening coming their way. The blunette sensed it too, his playful expression dropping. A tall, average looking to handsome man was following them, smiling subtly. "Who the hell are you?" Nnoitra growled, striding up to the man, but halting abruptly a meter away like he'd run into an invisible fence. Grimmjow watched apprehensively, finally noticing that the man was concealing a pistol under his long white coat. This guy was no normal thug that wanted to beat the shit out of them for their strange appearances or sexual orientations._

" _Come with me." The man said softly, but commandingly, pulling the gun out of his waistband to show them that that statement was anything but optional. It was a 44 magnum revolver, swirled, custom designs etched into the gold plating on the barrel. Grimmjow exchanged a wary look with his friend, both of them coming to the conclusion that they had no way of making a run for it without ending up dead. They were far too prideful to scream for help either, so they followed with scowls and clenched fists, waiting for an opportunity to escape that might never come. It was deathly quiet between the trio as they walked through raucous city streets for what seemed like miles._

 _Once the man with the slicked back brunette hair and revolver came to a stop, they were stood in front of a stone mansion and nearly shitting themselves with fear. It was a beautiful estate; pristine white, like dirt hadn't touched it since it'd been built. Gardeners were out front, trimming the perfectly rectangular bushes in the garden, the area divided from the rest of the lawn by sharp, cool looking marble. Grimmjow suddenly felt ashamed of the small house he lived in with his little sister, where he'd have to scare off the thugs with baseball bats at night just so she could sleep. He was twenty and she was only sixteen, so it was his job. Though, he doubted he could scare this man off with some cocky words and a piece of wood._

 _Nnoitra looked down at him, mouthing the words "Run now." The blunette looked at the guy with the brown hair, noting that he looked to be in angry conversation with a gardener. He agreed that it was time to leave, so he looked at his taller, usually dauntless friend. "Different directions." He mouthed back, right before they ran like loose bats straight out of hell._

 _Grimmjow had never felt his legs pump so fast in his life. Unfortunately, they hadn't counted on the gardener ratting them out to save his own ass._

 _The man cocked his gun and fired it into the air once, like a flare. They hadn't even made it past the end of the cobblestone driveway before they'd both been tackled to the ground by what they thought were security guards._

 _The two young men staggered and tussled on the ground, not noticing the weapons the other two carried. While Grimmjow himself wasn't caught by the piece of razor sharp metal the man carried and managed to kick it out of reach, he heard a guttural scream coming from Nnoitra. As soon as his attention was diverted, he felt the cool muzzle of a gun pressed between his blue eyebrows. The man that had been fighting his bleeding friend was now in front of him, digging a berretta pistol into his face._

" _Come now." He directed his cyan eyes upward, blanching when he saw a sly, foxlike grin and slits where eyes should have been on the face of his captor. "We haven't even gotten to the fun part yet." The man said tauntingly, eying the panting man that'd tackled in him the first place. "Tousen-san, what's taking so long? Aren't you going to bring him back to Aizen-sama?" The dark skinned man wearing sunglasses started to talk, but Grimmjow cut him off harshly. "Fuck off. Nnoi!?" His view was obscured by the dusty black slacks the man had on, but the fox faced bastard had an intricate, talon looking thing attached to his pointer finger. The blade on it was short, but very elegant; and it was covered in a thin layer of quickly drying blood._

" _Mah mah! The other kid's named Nnoi-kun? I'm sorry blue-kun, but I think I might've blinded our friend over there. Or half-blinded, if you wanna to split hairs." The silver haired man widened his thin grin, reminiscent of a Glasgow smile, tilting his head. He was brought to his feet easily after that, his stomach rolling violently at the scene he saw before him._

 _There his lanky best friend was, laying on the ground and moaning, his long hair splayed around him and his hand on his face. It didn't take someone with 20/20 vision to see the blood running through the spaces between his long, thin fingers and pooling on the ground. "What are you doing Grimm?! Didn't I say to fuckin run?!" The ravenette suddenly yelled, getting up and darting back into the city, hands pressed to his bleeding face. Grimmjow snapped into action then, tossing his pride out of the window and kicking "Tousen" between the legs, after grabbing the barrel of the gun, ripping it from the fox's hands. He was under the correct impression that he wasn't going to die, seeing as Nnoitra wasn't dead and was running, plus, the man hadn't even tapped the trigger. His grin never dropped as the blunette grabbed the weapon, aiming it at his captors as he backtracked the way he came. He'd never forget the dead brown eyes that'd watched him leave._

 _In he following weeks, he heard that the same thing happened to a few more people._ _Grimmjow knew (or at least knew of) a lot of them, though they never got stabbed through or shot at._ _Well, except for a guy named Ulquiorra, who got sliced vertically down his face and right under his eyes, the wounds mimicking tears. Nnoitra_ had _in fact ended up blind in one eye too. He even had to wear an eye-patch, before he got sick of people calling him a pirate and ditched it for a piece of white, torn fabric._

 _The man, "Aizen," was quiet for a while- meaning he wasn't bothering people at all until two weeks later, right after an older guy named Barragan got snatched up, even though the man was pushing fifty and supposedly done with all of the reckless shit that could get you in any kind of trouble with the Yakuza (which they'd guessed the man was). After that short reprieve, the man had presumably tracked him down again, as he was dragged off by what they thought could have been guards or something._

 _Grimmjow kept on kicking at whatever he could reach, growling at them to let him go. He couldn't speak Japanese that well, but anyone in a ten-meter radius of him probably got the gist of what he was saying. Someone had thrown him into a van and wrestled cuffs onto him on his way home from his shitty job doing construction work. He was even still drenched in sweat and wearing a bright orange vest, not to mention his steel toed work boots. Grimmjow bucked and wrestled, aiming a kick at the back of the driver's headrest._

" _Relax, Jaegerjaquez. Just doing my job." Unfortunately, the language barrier prevented Grimmjow from properly telling the man exactly how he should go fuck himself. "Sit on a pole and spin, jackass." He growled in French, settling into the car seat once he realized he was getting nowhere._

 _The Jeep pulled up to the big white mansion again, alongside more sleek, black cars. There were about ten in total, he estimated as he was dragged out by his handcuffs and pushed down onto his knees in front of the estate with a knife against the side of his neck. Grimmjow looked around again, really noticing the people beside him for the first time. A brunette with menacing grey eyes. Barragan, the old man. A beautiful blonde woman. Ulquiorra, green tattoos now covering the wounds. He blanched as Nnoitra was shoved down beside him, cursing and howling. Himself. A large dark skinned man with huge gauges and spiky body modifications in his head, imitating a Mohawk. A pretty, pink haired guy with white rectangular glasses, muttering French curses. A tall, greasy looking black haired man who was scowling at the floor. And a hulking tan guy with cornrows, who needed two guys on him to keep him down._

 _As soon as they were all in place, the grand wooden doors leading to the estate opened wide, yellow light spilling into the darkness that was the night. Aizen came out in an all white suit, flanked by his two groupies wearing matching ones: Tousen, and the silver haired bastard with the foxlike grin and eyes. The unnamed guy had his talons on, all of the fingers on his left hand covered in them, making him appear as if he had a claw. In his right, he held the silver barreled berretta loosely, almost swinging it as he walked. Tousen looked far more serious, holding a plain black pistol of some sort in his right hand and a small silver knife in the other. His dark purple braids were pulled back, and he wore solid silver, futuristic Cyclops sunglasses. Aizen had his hands in his pockets and was smiling softly, his white jacket pulled back to reveal the same gold plated magnum tucked into his waistband._

" _Are you guys forming a boy band?" He asked in his native tongue, grinning when the pink haired guy snorted and replied "looks like it," In the same language. He saw stars as someone pistol whipped the back of his head, just before Aizen and his posse came to a stop in front of his row of captives._

" _Hello, my diez- mi espadas en la noche. I would like you all to do me a favor- por favor."_

* * *

Ichigo was frozen in shock as Grimmjow told him the story. He couldn't believe that he'd missed so much in his mission. He'd let ten innocent people get sent to prison, albeit a few months apart to avoid suspicion. He fucking knew the man wasn't as scared as he should have been to be put away for life. Aizen had had protectors lied up before he'd even committed the crime. A hell of a lot of them too. And he assumed the blonde girl had been in a woman's prison as sort of an informant. He bit back a curse. "He picked us because we were 'tough enough to handle it.' Can you fucking believe it? He picked interesting looking people off the streets, and chose the ones who had the balls to leave or oppose him."

"The bastard threatened…" The blue haired man went on, gaze downcast. Grimmjow was still holding his hand, although it'd been bandaged for quite a while. He chose not to mention it, twining his fingers between rough ones instead. After a brief second, the man continued in the same dead voice that he'd used throughout the story. "He put a phone on speaker and set it on the ground in front of me. Nelliel was screaming in French, telling the thugs that Aizen sent that 'my big brother Grimmy will get you assholes to piss off!' She was so fucking scared that she didn't realize that they wouldn't understand. I couldn't just-" The handsome man's frown deepened, stormy blue eyes still boring into the couch beneath them.

"The long and short of it is, I went to prison because I was carrying enough coke to put me away for 15 years, and left Nel with all of the money I had, which wasn't much. Luckily, I got off in six. Which coincidentally, was my number in the gang that Aizen and his bitches were the head of. The Sexta, because I was the sixth person that agreed to go to prison with him."

The brunette sighed, shutting the laptop in front of him and looking at the usually loud and borderline annoying man. His air was troubled, and he looked as pallid as a corpse. Ichigo was good at faking emotions and reading them, but he had no idea how to console someone he cared about in real life unless it was one of his siblings. It was easy to bullshit, but hard to be honest. So he didn't say anything, just wrapped an arm around the man beside him, the awkward move a piss poor attempt at being gentle. It was made easier when Grimmjow slid an arm behind him, put his head into the spy's lap (carefully avoiding the bullet wound), and laid down on the couch. Ichigo worried his lip, combing his bandaged hand through thick blue hair absently. He didn't know how to say sorry. He faintly recalled the Jaegerjaquez trial, and he hadn't suspected a thing back then. In fact, he didn't even remember it until now. It wasn't _his_ bust, but he'd heard a cop named Omaeda boasting about it years ago, so it must have been his. How fucking stupid.

He kept stroking the soft blue hair until he heard Grimmjow's snoring, much quieter than this morning. He muttered an apology in French, caressing a soft cheek with his uninjured hand. He should have known something was up. He should have known. He was careless back then, and he'd been dumb enough not to notice anything happened until it literally fell into his lap six years later. Fuck.

Ichigo groaned softly, carefully moving the blue head on his lap to the couch and righting the media rack that he'd sent flying, shoving the DVD's onto it as quietly and neatly as he could. He'd started to question what the hell he was doing. Not in the house on Ame Street, but in the agency. His job was all he had besides his siblings, and he poured his entire being into doing it well- but he wasn't doing it well at all if ten people got forced into prison right under his nose. Involving his seven-month long _case._

As soon as he was done with the rack, had placed Grimmjow's head back in his lap, and sat down, he turned down the volume on the TV down and switched it to a shitty movie about zombies. Trying to get lost in it was fucking hard when he was questioning something he'd spent roughly a decade on. Ichigo scowled, promptly letting his head fall back against the back of the sofa. His host's snores lulled him into a dreamless sleep as he tried not to think of what a shit show this was becoming.

A few hours later, he jerked awake to the sound of someone pounding on the door. Ichigo moaned in pain, because his legs were asleep and his back hurt, not to mention someone was trying to destroy the house. His features softened when he realized he was only stiff and sore because Grimmjow slept like the dead and was still laying in his lap, and it was probably Shiro being a pain in the ass outside. Unceremoniously, he untangled himself from the sleeping blunette who woke immediately as his head was dropped to the couch like a rock. "Hey, fuck was that for?!" He shouted accusatorily, sitting up ramrod straight. Ichigo smirked as he limped to the entrance, glad that Grimmjow was doing fine after his story. "Sorry, gotta get that. Probably Snowflake."

He flung the portal open, snorting when he saw that his brother had changed from his disguise into a fitted black sport coat, fitted dark jeans, a thin white sweater, and white Gucci sneakers. He was even wearing a Gucci belt for Kami's sake. Fittingly, it had a black band and a bright gold "GG" belt buckle. He knew that his brother only took the time to change because he was annoyed that he'd had to dress to look homeless, and the only way he was going to make himself feel better was looking unnecessarily expensive and put together for a while. "So, I did all that shit ya asked me to do, _King_." Ichigo felt his mood lift when he noticed a thick manila folder under his brother's arm, and an expensive looking bottle of strong sake in a hand that was sporting a gold, diamond encrusted ring on the middle finger.

"You really take shit too far, don't you?" The brunette shook his head and let his younger sibling in. He bet if he looked outside, there would be an attention grabbing Lamborghini at the curb. He didn't look though, not because he doubted it, but because it would drive him into a spiral of worry if he really thought about how much attention the damn thing would draw.

"The ring?" Shiro grinned, gently toeing off his shoes at the entranceway. "Nah man, it's hot. You told me to go outside lookin' like a fuckin jackass, so I had to make up for it." The white haired man grinned like a maniac and crossed his legs, spinning around in his socks and nearly knocking a speaker off of the wall with the bottle of booze. Grimmjow scowled from his spot on the couch, getting up and snatching the sake from the albino. "You look doucheyer than you did earlier. I didn't think that was fuckin' possible." The blunette smirked when Shiro turned an angry shade of red, and Ichigo started howling in laughter. Ichigo was glad that the man seemed to be better after some rest, but he would still keep an eye on his host. He also needed to talk to Shiro about Aizen, but that could wait until Grimmjow was out of the room or asleep. Right now? Shiro _did_ look pretty douchey.

"It's funny because it's true!" He cackled, prompting Shiro hit him in the face with a folder that was probably full of sensitive information. "I look good, assholes!" He growled, stomping to the sofa and plopping down. Ichigo rolled his eyes and sat down next to his brother. He needed to know what Shiro found out, and nothing was going to happen if he was still mad. "You look fine, kid. What did you find out about the security?" He grabbed his phone and opened notepad after checking to make sure there it was his real one.

The white haired man sighed as Grimmjow closed the door and grabbed the pizza box. "I'll leave ya to it. Gonna put this away." The blunette walked off with a roll of his eyes, and Ichigo watched him leave. "Annnyway." Shirosaki drawled with his wide, knowing smirk in place, and the brunette turned to him. "Here's what I saw. There're four snipers. Two in a building with tha big letters MODELS on it, and two of em in the shitty abandoned office. Both sets of em are facing the building that ya told me is HQ, on the very top floor. That damn Kariya did a nice ass job fixin' the place up, cause if I didn't know what to look for- I wouldn't even notice. I changed the plates before I left if ya didn't notice- ditched the others in the Sumida river on the way over. And here." The thick folder was dropped in his lap with a thud, followed closely by the clang of Koga's keys. "There ya fuckin go."

Ichigo resisted the urge to kiss his little brother, settling for a small smile instead. Shiro did his job, he did it well, and he did it on time. He didn't expect any less, but he was happy about it. "You didn't fuck it up, Snowflake. I'm proud of you, little brother!" He widened his smile at the scowl that came with calling Shirosaki "little brother." His fingers were nearly twitching- he wanted to read what was inside that damn folder. It was important enough that Koga couldn't take it with him, so it must be huge. "King. Are ya fuckin' blueberry boy over there?" His expression dropped, and now he struggled to refrain from kicking the albino's ass.

"What? No! And don't call him that shit."he snapped, scowling at Shiro and momentarily forgetting about the folder. That was the stupidest thing his brother had said in years. He couldn't go around fucking civilians on missions. Not unless he wanted them to get attached and run around looking for him, stirring up trouble like headless chickens. "Maybe it's more than good old fuckin' if you're defending him like that. Look, I don't have a problem with you two-" He clamped his injured hand over the man's mouth before he had a chance to say the word "fuckin'" again. Ichigo peered at his brother's grinning eyes behind dark Raybans. " _No. We aren't fucking."_ He hissed lowly, hoping that Grimmjow hadn't heard his outburst and decided to listen in. That would be bad.

'Why would it be so bad though?' he wondered to himself. It wouldn't be, unless he really cared what the blunette thought about him. Did he care? Why would he care?

He shook it off and released his brother's mouth, deciding to deal with that at a later date. "Keep your mouth shut if all that comes out is stupid." He rubbed a hand through his brown locks, knowing that if he were to get involved with Grimmjow, he'd feel a need to protect him like he did with everyone else he knew. Fuck, he already did, because he suddenly realized that the man needed a bodyguard of sorts as long as he was hanging around. For now, it could be him. What would happen if someone came around, looking to dig up information on him though? If he wasn't here? He'd have to arrange that soon, because he wasn't about to get the man into any trouble. His brother looked at him and took off his sunglasses, probably just so Ichigo could see him rolling his eyes. "Blue boy, I need some glasses in here! Gotta drink that sake out of something, right?" He called.

Ichigo punched his brother hard on the shoulder, partly to get him back for earlier, and partly because the blue boy comment annoyed him. He got teased for his hair color all of his life, even when he started carrying weaponry, so it pissed him off to hear the dumb comment. Plus, why the hell did his brother think he could order their host around like that? " _Don't_ _call him that._ And we're guests here, Snowflake. I taught you better." He glared at his sibling, who just huffed and leaned back, muttering something to the effect of: "fuckin' whipped." The brunette's scowl just deepened.

A smirking Grimmjow appeared in the doorway, two sakazuki cups and a bottle of sake in hand. "Come on, your eyes are fucked up but they ain't broken. You can find em'." Shiro growled and stomped into the kitchen, making sure to bump shoulders with the blunette on the way there. Ichigo guffawed, smiling when Grimmjow put a cup in front of him and filled it up. "Thanks, Grimm. Sorry about Tighty Whitey being an ass." With a trademark grin, the blunette filled a cup up for himself. "Don't worry about it. Thanks for defending my hair." Ichigo snorted, taking a long sip from his cup. "Don't mention it."

The spy really took a good look at Grimmjow then. The man really was the most handsome one he'd ever seen in his life. If he weren't on a mission…

The blunette sat beside him, catlike, bright blue eyes boring into his own. Did it really mater that he was on a mission? The answer was yes of course, but he bit his lip and looked down into the black cup in his hand when he felt a small sting at the though of healing up and walking out. He didn't want to leave this guy just yet, but he would need to sooner or later. Even though he was all about work, he wanted-

"Oi! Did ya try to hide your fuckin' cups?" Shirosaki came strolling in, a snifter in hand. "Couldn't find one of those. Guess I gotta deal with being different." The albino dropped into the empty space beside Ichigo.

There was a deadly, choking silence between the three of them. Mostly because Ichigo had seemingly forgotten how to talk, and that was where he usually scolded his brother for being stupid. He just… he was still looking into Grimmjow's mischievous eyes. They looked depthless and-

"King! Ya remember that time when we were on the storage ship in Peru? With that embezzler, what was his name…don't matter. Ya got outta the rope with your teeth, got me out, and used the ring off a Gatorade bottle for-" Ichigo didn't even know what happened. One minute he was staring into oceanic eyes, and another, he was yelling at his little brother for ruining his moment, _and_ giving out information. "Damn it- you can't go telling people mission stories!" He sneered, finally ripping his amber eyes away from downright laughing blue ones and turning to his sniggering, snot nosed little brother.

"Come on, ya can't go telling me half a story and shit. What did _King_ do with the ring off the Gatorade bottle?" Grimmjow smirked, taking a long sip of sake.

Ichigo sighed heavily, taking a sip of his own. He nodded to Shiro, because it wasn't really that big of a deal once he thought about it a little more. "For brass knuckles! It was fuckin' genius! The guy was all fucked up! I thought we were screwed when they tossed 'im into the storage room with me. And then fuck- he starts pulling some crazy shit out of his ass. He used my shark tooth necklace to get me out of the rope- and I had some matches on me, right? He set the room on fire after we beat the shit out of those dumbass guards. Everyone ran to put it out and we took the lifeboat to shore. _With the embezzler on board."_

The spy was blushing from head to toe, scowling down into his clear drink. Shiro was doing a poor job of being a subtle wingman, but at least Grimmjow was hanging on to every word like a barnacle and didn't seem to notice. "Really? How do you even use a Gatorade bottle ring as brass knuckles?" Even if the blunette was being sort of an idiot, Ichigo knew that it'd look a little weird if he didn't talk at all. "You take it off with your nails, flip it inside out, and bite the spikes off of the parts that are going to be pressed against your fingers. It'll only fit over two or three of them though, so every hit has to count." He said cavalierly, taking a gulp of sake and snatching the bottle from his brother when his cup ran dry.

With a huge grin, Grimmjow leaned in, fogging up Ichigo's head. Suddenly, the spy felt like he was being dosed with some strong, most definitely illegal drug. He didn't know what the hell was happening to him until he focused his eyes and realized the blue haired man was talking. Fuck. "…kind of badass. Got anymore spy stories?" The brunette tensed up minutely. _Spy._ This was getting a little dangerous. He basically told the man that he was a spy, but he didn't want it out in the open. He was seemingly the only one who gave a shit about blowing covers though, because he saw Shiro grin a little wider after taking a huge gulp out of his snifter.

"Ah! There was that one time where I blew my cover, right- and I was gonna be offed by the fuckin' Yakuza. King came strolling in with nothing but a Glock and baseball bat. We made some heads _roll._ " Ichigo cringed, downing his full cup. That could be him if he let this go on any longer. " _Snowflake._ " He growled.

"What? Lighten up brother, you're always too careful!" 'Which is why _I'm_ always coming in to save your ass, and you're always the one about to be offed.' Is what he wanted to say. He didn't though, just let his body sink into the couch and let the buzz tell him to let his brother go on. Grimmjow looked way too eager, and it was doing fucked up things to his chest. What could it hurt? Plus, he didn't want to be the one to piss on their parade.

"Fine. You're not even telling him the good ones though." He muttered under his breath, mostly to himself. _Luckily_ for him, they heard.

"What do ya mean _the good ones?_ " Grimmjow inquired, big blue eyes wide in wonder. Ichigo sighed, setting his cup down on the coffee table in front of him. "There's a huge difference between a bust and a situation where I save Snowflake's ass from execution. A bust is way better, making it a good one." Ichigo said dryly, sitting back and sighing. He had their full attention now, both men clearly waiting for him to go on.

"There was this dirty asshole who ran a human trafficking ring- I can't give you a name, but this degenerate piece of shit doesn't deserve one. So this guy, right- running the ring for two years, and none of the accusations would stick because of his cash, and his cash's ability to shut people up faster than threats ever could. I figured out his information in a month- he kept the girls in a basement, shackled to the fucking walls. So I come up to his place- his office- and steal every shred of information I needed to put him away for life, no parole, no pardons. Soon, I made the bust. Broke down his friend's apartment door with five other guys in the agency.

He was bent over a table covered in coke, some woman was all over him too. As soon as we busted in, she ran like a bat out of hell; threw open the window and hopped down the fire escape like a gymnast. We found out later that she was a prostitute that he was going to buy and sell later. I tackled the guy to the ground and threw the cuffs on his wrists, and that was when the friend came out with a machine gun. He started firing a spray of bullets, and one caught me in the side before I jumped him, kicked in his kneecaps, took the gun, and read him the rights. Got him on attempted murder as well as trafficking. Fuck, and once I was done, the asshole on the ground told us where the girls were. Most of them were locked in that basement, the apartment basement, and some had been bought already. Fortunately, we got em all back." Ichigo finished, rolling his eyes at the two men who were listening with rapt attention.

"Holy shit. Ya really are a fuckin hero, huh?" Grimmjow murmured, his blue eyes awed. He almost cringed, feeling a guilty look twitch across his features. 'No,' Ichigo thought, the statement reminding him of the huge blunder he made with Aizen. 'I'm really not.'

* * *

 _ **Sooo, yup. That concludes chapter three of Creep, and gives y'all some much needed backstory. "God, school has been a pain in the ass. I've got work piled up to the ceiling, and that's why my updates have been more irregular than usual," she says, crying because she's been neglecting her writing and art for math.**_

 _ **But thank Kami I got this out! Now we know Grimmy's history! And do I sense some attraction, boys?**_

 _ **Insert obligatory disclaimer: I don't own bleach or anything. If I did, Grimmy would actually be with the Strawberry. My biggest fear is being sued. Please don't sue me. Please.**_

 _ **See you guys next time, and thank for sticking around!**_

 _ **Much love,**_

 _ **The Sexta Espada.**_


	4. Six Years Yesterday

Creep, Chapter 4.

 _(Lemon warning)_

Ichigo's head was fuzzy. Way too fuzzy for a spy's head to ever be. He bit his lip, clutching the empty bottle of sake that he, his brother, and Grimmjow, had downed in the four hours they'd been drinking. He almost growled to himself, mad that he didn't care about how drunk he was at all. Why? Well, his temper flared up when he was intoxicated. Plus, the man beside him wasn't making it any easier for him to stay focused on anything important.

Grimmjow was sprawled on the couch, shirt off because he'd been complaining about how hot it was in the living room. It was. _Now_ it was, figuratively. All Ichigo could think about between recalling mission stories was how good the man looked. What was worse was, the blunette had a very poor alcohol tolerance and a very flirty nature. He wanted to get up, sleep off the booze, and maybe put the folder stuffed with important information somewhere safe, but he was pinned beneath a slurring man that was once again laying in his lap. The only difference was, there wasn't anymore heaviness in the room, and he was left with just the feeling of the head of an extremely attractive blue haired demon dangerously close to his dick.

"So, whats ya gonna do with S?" Grimmjow murmured with a smirk, playing with the hem of the white shirt the spy was wearing. Shirosaki was passed out on the Lazy-boy, his sport coat pulled over his body like a blanket and his mouth wide open, lips coated in drool. His anger got worse every time he saw the man, because he was supposed to be undercover and he was drunk, sitting next to his twin brother who was snoring like a jackhammer. He couldn't punch someone in the face for sleeping, so he just screwed his eyes shut and sighed. "Can I just leave him here Grimm? I don't want his stupid ass outside running his mouth."

"Sure. So ya gotta tell me somethin'. I toll' you pretty much every fuckin detail of my life, don't forget i-it." Ichigo couldn't find it in himself to protest the logic of that. He'd heard about a kidnapping, and all Grimmjow had gotten out of it was someone that was willing to listen. The man had given every stitch of information out about his darkest hour, and what had the brunette spy given in return? A few mission stories and a family photo. "You get three questions." He said with a scowl, turning to look at the blank television and absentmindedly combing his bandaged hand through light blue locks once again.

"Whas yer name?" Ichigo tensed up, suddenly eying his keys and thinking about how hard it might be to make a hasty exit and drag the Snowflake out with him. Probably too long, unless he decided to knock Grimmjow out and run- but he couldn't find it in himself to do either. If he knocked the younger man out while he was wasted, who knows what damage he could possibly do to the blunette's brain cells? He'd just ditch out, but then he'd feel worse about it- so he was only left with one option.

"Next. I can't tell you without putting us both in danger." The brunette felt bad when he saw the annoyed look on his host's face, but that was better than a dead look on his host's face. "Fine." Grimmjow seemingly agreed. Or so he thought. As soon as the word left perfectly shaped lips, he found himself flushed, pulled onto his back, and pinned between leather and a cut body. "I'm a have to force ya to tell me then."

The brunette actually did growl this time, his anger morphing into something… _else._ He was fully aware that he could flip them both, but as embarrassing as it was, he was sort of starting to like the weight that was settling on his body. So, he decided to let it go on. "How do you plan to force me to tell you?" Ichigo rolled his eyes, shifting his hips and letting Grimmjow's taut body straddle his lap. Luckily, the sake made the pain from the bullet wound dissipate almost entirely, so all he felt was pleasure.

"Yer gonna find out, baby." The blunette lowered his drunkenly smirking face to Ichigo's reddened neck, sloppily biting and licking the area right above his collarbone. The spy groaned in frustration, feeling his control slip and slip. The temperature in the room was heating up drastically, but he was beginning to seriously doubt that Grimmjow would be able to stay conscious long enough to get anywhere. Still, he let it go on with a scowl, this time of pleasure. "You're not going to get anywhere. I'm a highly trained spy and assassin. _Shit."_ He cursed. The man above him probably thought it was from pleasure, but he'd just spat out information like it was nothing, and his mind was trying to tell him to give a damn.

"Mhmm baby, but whas your name?" Grimmjow started to roll his hips, both of their pants getting tighter and tighter. With a hiss, he gripped the blue haired demon's hips and held them still. They needed to stop before he let go of his control completely. Ichigo didn't necessarily want to stop, but his arousal was starting to hurt and his lips were getting far too loose. "We need to stop this." He said truthfully. Though, when big warm hands slid under his borrowed white t-shirt and caressed his nipples, he flipped them over with a twist of his leg and pulled the bigger man up onto his feet. Not before he grabbed a condom out of his bag and slid it into his pocket though, trying desperately not to think of where he got them from.

"We're in front of my brother." Clumsily, he wrapped an arm around a tapered waist, guiding them both to the bedroom where he'd tied the man up and held him at gunpoint. It was funny how much things could change in a day. Grimmjow, snorted and grinned, showcasing a perfect row of snow white teeth. Unfortunately, that mischievous grin was the only warning he got before he was pulled up onto a broad shoulder fireman style. He was almost ashamed to feel a smirk flit across his own face as a door was kicked open, slammed shut, and he was thrown onto the bed roughly. It wasn't everyday that someone was able to throw him around like that, and he kind of liked the fact that the blunette was man enough to try.

He was very quickly forgetting about the name thing, which was how this started. Did it matter though? Which was more important, the handsome man that was once again settling into his lap and rolling taut hips, or a name?

'The name, Ichigo. Definitely the name.' He thought, letting out a frustrated moan and flattening his palm over a shapely ass. "Ya like it babe? You wan more?" He cocked a brunette eyebrow, eyeing the tents in both of their loose pants. _No shit, Sherlock._ "Yeah. Of course I do, Grimm." He made his decision then, some of his impulsiveness coming back from his teenage years.

With a flick of his wrist, the ACDC shirt that Grimmjow was wearing came off, and _Kami._ He'd seen the man shirtless before, but not in this situation. He felt his expression darken with lust, mirrored by the blunette's own. The back of his bandaged hand slid across tan abs and tawny pink nipples, drawing a satisfied moan out of his partner. The nagging feeling that what he was doing wasn't right disappeared as he flipped them again, lowering his usually downturned lips onto a hot, glistening collarbone. Nipping and sucking, leaving huge hickies in the shape of his mouth, he let an easy grin cross his face for the thousandth time that day. Then he felt around in the darkness, sliding his hand lower and lower…

" _Fuck_ , yeah, jus like that, keep going babe, don't you fuckin' stop…" Grimmjow grunted out between a series of pants and closed mouth groans. Ichigo's grin widened as he turned his mouth to that chest, sliding one pert, pink nub between his teeth gently and brushing the top of it with his tongue, flicking and rubbing the other with his free hand. The other was buried in cartoon monster pajamas, swirling thick, clear pre-cum around the end of a member and jerking it off in time with the noises coming out of Grimmjow's mouth. Kami, this felt like some kind of fucked up fever dream to him. A good one, but a fucked up one.

He decided if he was going to show off, now was the time to do it, so he sat up, lifted the slightly larger man's hips off of the bed with ease, and fast as a snake, snatched the cute pajamas off of that beautiful body. Not a second after they hit the floor, he slid down and straddled the blue haired man's legs, running his hand over a powder blue happy trail and patch of close cropped pubic hairs of the same color as he went. His dick twitched at both the excited shiver that ran through the 26-year-old's frame, and the sight of the manhood in front of him. What Ichigo had on him in length, Grimmjow had on him in girth; not to say the man wasn't also hung like a horse, because he was.

With a wink, he lowered his pink lips down and around the twitching cock, making sure to swish his tongue along the sensitive underside over and over again. A garbled mess of lewd words started tumbling out of Grimmjow's mouth, this time in French instead of Japanese. "Fuck, yes, more, don't stop, ahhmm…" He felt a large, warm hand tangle into his brown locks and hummed, liking the feel of long fingers against his scalp, pushing him down to deep throat the prick between his lips. He never thought a man could taste this good, and it was a little disconcerting. He continued though, silently asking himself if he was drunk enough to rim the man below him. No, not yet. He would just have to settle for something else.

He sat up, bringing the hand that he'd been using to keep Grimmjow in place up and to the younger man's lips. "Suck." He commanded, his mouth twitching into a small smirk when the blunette drunkenly complied, slipping his two extended fingers into a hot mouth and drenching them. He briefly considered the fact that he might be taking advantage of the guy, but he shrugged it off. He was drunk too, so he decided it wasn't a big deal.

Once Ichigo had deemed everything good to go, he dragged his long fingers over the cleft of that ass, slipping his shirt off right before he did so. His wrist was grabbed in mid drag though, blue eyes dark and half-serious. "Not gonna let ya fuck me if I dun even know what ya name is." That stung like a wasp. Ichigo nearly gaped, because he didn't know what the emotion he was suddenly full of meant; he felt _rejected._ He was never one to be rejected in his adult life. No one wanted to play with a poor orphan that started fights and stole, so that feeling dated back to childhood. In other words, he last time he felt like this was when he was a kid, and he thought he'd grown out of it. Here he was though, feeling _hurt_ again. The man was just a man he was attracted to, so why…? He swallowed roughly. He was getting way too attached.

He shook the feeling off, cocking an eyebrow and forcing himself to smirk. "Okay, I won't _fuck_ you…" He plunged one slick finger into the tight ring of muscle beneath his hand, widening his smirk when the younger man squirmed, handsome (freckled? He could make out a few pinkish freckles in the moonlight) face pinching in pain and pleasure. He lowered his own to hover over Grimmjow's, narrowing his dark amber eyes in a look that would've probably been intimidating if not for the question he asked soon after, still plunging a finger into a painfully hot and tight ass. "Can I kiss you, Grimm?"

As soon as that wide shark grin came over the handsome face under him, he knew the answer. "Nope, not unless ya wanna tell me somethin'." Ichigo could have growled, because that feeling came over him again. He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to do it until he couldn't actually do it. "Fine, fine, ask me something else then. Anything else." He slid another finger into Grimmjow's tight heat, scissoring his fingers in and out, and looking for something quite small…the blunette hissed and moaned, bucking his hips minutely. Annnd there it was, folks.

"Mhh-merde. Make me a promise that you're gonna tell me about yaself, m'kay? Give me you-ur word, and then I want ya to fuck me." His grin became genuine when he realized that he could literally screw the man over like that. He could do it, leave, and never deal with that problem again. Grimmjow believed in his word though, because he had too much faith in someone who just dropped onto his doorstep in the middle of the night. He went back on his earlier statement and was coasting on pure trust. It was really fucking naive, even for someone who was probably drunk off his ass. So he would do it and keep his word, just because the innocent idea of a promise made his heart squirm and clench in his ribcage like one of those foam stress balls. "Fine, okay? I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk the next day, and while you're in bed, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"Don't write a check that ya can't cash." Ichigo leaned close to the angled jawline in front of him and crushed his lips to a set of plump and waiting ones, still fingering Grimmjow and trying not to jizz his pants. It was time to get this show on the road, now that he had consent. He nibbled on a full bottom lip, sliding his tongue along it when the other man gave a gravelly moan. _Oh yeah baby, moan for me._ With one last soft lick, he stood up and slid the condom out of his pocket, slipping the black sweatpants off and coming back to sit in between his partner's legs.

He eyed the man below him lustfully as he tore the red condom packet open with his teeth; blue hair was wild and damp, handsome face flushed, catlike eyes as dark as the crashing ocean, framed in dark blue lashes. Tan, freckled skin covered in hickies that trailed from a strong neck and ended at a prominent collarbone. Chest heaving and blushed. Finally, cock straining and dripping pre-cum. He gripped his own loosely, trying not to moan as he covered it with pre lubed latex, running a hand through his damp brunette hair before pushing two long legs up by the thighs. "Ready?" He asked, situating his twitching manhood at Grimmjow's entrance and trying not to snap his hips forward like an animal.

"What do ya think?" The younger man said with one of his trademark smirks. With a choked noise, he pushed in slowly, drawing moans from both of them. He brought his lips down to Grimmjow's once more, ignoring the pain that had started to return to the site of his gunshot wound in favor of sliding his own tongue between full lips and caressing the younger man's. Ichigo started to pick up his pace a little at a time, grinding his hips forward in even, balanced thrusts. It was basically impossible though, because he could feel himself losing control a little too rapidly for his tastes. The man below him seemed to be fine with him doing so though, as he was starting to mutter in French once more: "Plus plus, aller plus vite s'il vous plaît."

Ichigo was glad that he still had the presence of mind to translate it, because it made the entire situation so much better. "Don't write a check that you can't cash."Groaning, he pulled out and flipped the writhing man over onto his stomach, laying on top of him and giving him what he'd asked for: _More. Faster._

The new angle made it possible to hit the younger man's prostate with every thrust, and Ichigo felt Grimmjow clench around him every time. He knew the man below him was close, so he switched positions one more time with practiced ease, sitting up and sliding against white sheets until his back hit the mahogany headboard at the top of the bed. "Come here and ride me." He growled in French, and the blunette complied shakily, climbing up his body until he was sitting on his covered prick again. Impatiently, he pressed his unhurt hand against a strong lower back and grabbed Grimmjow's hip with his other, bringing his partner up and down into his lap roughly.

Once they'd set a fast and hard pace, he grabbed Grimmjow's cock and jerked it off in time with their thrusts. The bigger man moaned and dropped his head onto Ichigo's shoulder, kissing the perspiring skin there over and over. "I'm about to…" With one last thrust aimed at his prostate, he didn't need to finish the sentence, because the end presented itself. Hot cum splattered their stomachs, the blue haired man's body jerking violently in his lap. Ichigo lowered his own face into the crook of Grimmjow's neck, muffing his groans and chants of " _Grimm."_ He came just as violently, filling the pink condom and fucking the man above him in odd, uneven thrusts.

As soon as they were both spent, he slid out of Grimmjow with a hiss and moved over to make room for the man that was climbing out of his lap. He shivered as the cold air hit his body, and the pain from his few wounds started screaming at him. He felt good though, because he was still buzzed enough not to think of the possible consequences to his actions. Ichigo blinked his amber eyes sleepily, head lolling to the side to face his partner. Dark cyan eyes were inspecting him playfully, one large hand buried into mussed, untidy blue hair. "Don't think I'ma forget whatcha promised me." It was half joking and half serious, and Ichigo seriously doubted he would.

He slid over and kissed the man sloppily, but sweetly. It was probably a mistake on his part to say something like that, but what was done was done. Ichigo got up and staggered to the door, figuring Snowflake was still passed out. A small grin was affixed on his face. "You'll probably remember it for a while." Then he went to get something to wipe them off with, thinking that the responsible thing to do would be to grab his shit and go right then. He wouldn't though, because he wasn't willing to leave Grimmjow just yet.

* * *

"I knew it! I knew y'all were fuckin'!"

Light from the drawn blinds filtered into the small, bare bedroom and worsened his headache a million fold. Ichigo sat up, intending to punch whoever decided to wake him up in the face. He was resting his head on something hard and hot, the thing moving up and down rhythmically and beating like a slow bass drum. Then, as he slowly got his bearings, he finally registered the words that he'd heard, and the voice that he'd heard it in. Snowflake. _Fuckin'. I knew y'all were…_

His eyes shot open, his face horrified as everything from last night rushed back to him. He was laying on a snoring Grimmjow, curled against him and resting his head on a broad chest. No. No. _No, no, no, no._ Shirosaki was grinning and sitting at the end of the bed, dressed in last night's clothes, eyes roving over him and their host excitedly. He'd gone and developed feelings for the blue haired man, making some stupid promise about divulging classified information to a civilian. Not just any civilian though, oh no. He had to run his mouth to a civilian with possible ties to Aizen Sosuke. He screwed his eyes shut, counting to ten in his head forwards and backwards, a trick that his friend Orihime had taught him to control his anger.

"Snowflake. _Leave. I'll call you later._ " He growled, not moving an inch in an attempt to keep Grimmjow from waking up. Luckily, he'd had the brain power to put boxers on them both before going to sleep, or Shiro would be getting a show. With one last "I fuckin' knew it." His little brother was gone, and he was left to think over last night. The front door slammed shut.

It was easily some of the best sex he'd ever had. Maybe just because he was drunk, but everything had felt alive and good. It might have been the best sex he'd ever had, if not for the ache that filled his wounds afterwards. He was lucky he didn't pull any stitches with those moves, because he felt like he overdid it as it was. If his muscles felt sore, he couldn't imagine what Grimmjow would be feeling when he woke up.

Now that he thought back on it, the blunette was wasted. There was a possibility that he didn't remember anything at all from last night, let alone a promise. He decided what he was going to do then: if the man didn't remember, there was no obligation to remind him of their dumb agreement. He could just say that they had sex, nothing more. If he did, a fake backstory might be in order…

No, he couldn't bring himself to do that, even if it was the best idea he could think of. Some large part of him wanted to tell Grimmjow everything. It was like he was still drunk, because the irrational part was far outweighing the rational. He should've gotten the hell out of there during the night. He didn't though, so he had to face his conflicting feelings head on and pray that he was able to make the right decision.

"Hey, how ya doing?" He jumped as strong arms tightened around him. Well, that answered that question. The younger man remembered everything. Great. There was no avoiding this problem. At least he had a little time, because the man got up without waiting for a reply, muttering something about the bathroom and limping stiffly to said place. He laughed loudly, getting flipped off for his reaction. By the time the man had come back and lain back down, he'd decided he would let his fears go for a little while.

"I'm just fine." Ichigo sat up only to stare down at Grimmjow. He hesitated to describe the other man as pretty under any circumstances, but seeing pale yellow sunlight filtering through blue hair and eyelashes, illuminating mischievous crystal colored eyes and tan freckles- the man looked _pretty_. That trademark smirk was plastered onto his face, sharp teeth glinting, and he almost growled. His chest was hurting again, and he had to bend down and kiss the other man quickly just to relieve the pressure. Man, he felt like a woman.

"What's that look for, huh?" He asked, ignoring the instinct that was telling him to run far, far away from this situation. "Pretty fucking cocky for someone who can't even walk right. How's your asshole?" Ichigo teased, running his hand through soft blue locks. He'd been doing that an awful lot lately.

"Are ya calling _me_ cocky? Do ya even hear yourself when ya talk? And look at ya, being so fuckin' sappy." Grimmjow asked, letting his head rest on Ichigo's stomach. The brunette snorted, subconsciously pulling the younger man closer with his left arm. "You complaining? I'm just stating facts here, you know. I'm the best." He grinned.

"Nah, not really. Keep tellin' yourself that though, sport. You're the best. I know, your mom told you so." Ichigo laughed, mostly because of the joke, minor reason being that his mom had been dead for eighteen years, and for some reason, was still happy enough to laugh at that dumb line. "Yeah, yeah, that's not what you were saying last night." In a piss poor imitation of Grimmjow's deeper voice, he proceeded to mock the man's French ramblings. _"More, more, ahh, faster, more, you're the best, you're the best-"_ He was cut off by a large hand and menacing eyes.

"Keep talking if ya want to die." He smirked and relented, grabbing the hand over his mouth and pulling it away. Deciding that he was safe enough, Ichigo tacked on one last impression: " _I'm about to…"_ He yelped, feeling those same hands suddenly start running along his sides. Somewhere in the back of his mind he screamed at himself: 'You're a world class assassin and you're still _ticklish_?' Laughing hysterically, he looked up at the man who was straddling his lap helplessly.

"Say that your impressions are shitty! Say you're sorry!" He didn't miss a beat, bringing his hands up to the bigger man's sides and doling out the same treatment.

He was a grown man, with a job and a house and a car, and he was having tickle war. He was having a tickle war with another grown man and was having a ridiculous amount of fun. Their laugher brought tears to their eyes, and Ichigo finally had to crack because he couldn't breathe anymore, and if Grimmjow wanted to sit in his lap half naked for any longer, there'd be a repeat of last night.

"Fine, fine, I give! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He cried, continuing to tickle the other man even after his 'punishment' was over. He grinned sadistically at the howling blunette, stopping after a few seconds only because his arm was burning like someone had set it on fire and his leg ached like a bitch. At least he wasn't the only one suffering though. Grimmjow had a hand pressed to his lower back beside him, a pained grimace plastered onto his handsome face. "Feeling sore?" He teased, getting up and paling when his bad leg touched the ground. Ouch. He frowned, feeling like karma had just flipped him the bird.

"Maybe." The blunette stood beside him, both of them moaning in pain. He shook his head, going to the cracked door and adjusting his bleary eyes to the light coming from the living room. He wanted to take a shower, and then he wanted to check out the contents of that folder. There was just one thing wrong with his plan though.

"...bring it. It's full of incriminating shit. He probably doesn't even know what to do it with it." _Damn it._ He wanted time to flip through his mental rolodex of voices, but he didn't have it, so he'd wing went to open the door further, probably to confront the two men in the living room that had somehow gotten in in the time it took Shirosaki to leave. He pushed the bigger man hard against the chest, making him stumble back and soundlessly drop back onto the (thank god) foam mattress. Ichigo slipped yesterday's shirt and sweatpants on quickly, grabbing two belts from the closet and holding them tightly. He slipped a black beanie over his head to cover his hair, and black scarf over his face to cover his jaw and lips.

Blue eyes regarded him with confusion and anger as he stepped up to the man on the bed, dropping his voice to less than a whisper. "I need your help, Grimm. You won't get hurt, but I need you to listen to me and do what I say." He held he belts in his bare hand, caressing Grimmjow's face with the back of his bandaged one. "I need you to go out there and ask them what they're doing in your house or something like that. They might try something, but they won't get far. I want you to trust me, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise." He wouldn't let that happen, he almost said.

Narrow blue eyes inspected his calm expression like a jungle cat, softening when he found something there he liked. What it was, he had no idea. "Just go along with what they say, and act like I don't exist, okay? Make sure you draw their attention away from the bedroom door. I've got you, don't worry about anything." Grimmjow rolled his eyes and pulled him down by the neck roughly, kissing him through the thick black cloth of the scarf. "Ya look really fuckin' stupid in all of that. Okay, I'll do it."

Ichigo grinned under the scarf, quietly wrapping the leather around both sets of his knuckles and flexing his fists. He slid into a corner as Grimmjow walked out, listening closely.

" _Fuck are ya, and how the hell did ya get into my house?"_

The brunette waited for the other pin to drop, clutching the belts tightly and praying to god that nothing happened. Grimmjow was playing his semi frightened but angry role perfectly, and he realized that it wasn't a role with him. He was at least a little afraid, and genuinely pissed. Whoever was out there wasn't as kind as he was. He was sure the perceptive young man understood that. So, he decided to shit on his plan and creep through the door before anything had the chance to happen.

Quiet as a mouse, he slid out of the room, only to drop the belts around his hands in shock.

There were only two people in the world that had any hope of pulling off a long red ponytail and a head as shiny and bald as the one in front of him. "Abarai! Maderame! _What the hell are you two doing here?"_ Ichigo growled as the two men in front of him turned around in confusion, and then happiness as Ichigo removed the scarf and beanie.

"Ichigo!" Renji howled, striding over and thumping his buddy on the shoulder. Grimmjow snorted loudly from his position by the door, almost radiating the words "I won, you lost." With a choked noise, he raised his leg and kicked Renji squarely in the gut. "You fucking _moron!"_ he clenched his fists over his friend's groaning body and turned to Ikkaku Maderame, who stood in place and rolled his eyes. "Doesn't the word undercover mean anything to anyone anymore?" He asked dryly, walking over to give his friend a clap on the back.

"At least you haven't gone and gotten soft on us." The man replied, his red eyebrows twitching up in humor. "Ikkaku. Bald as ever." He had to block a pistol whip, almost ignoring the low snarl coming from the man's lips: "Who are you calling _bald?"_ He looked up, trying not to make much of a face as he realized shit must have hit the fan. Unfortunately he thought he knew exactly why. "Sit down and get your story straight, assholes. I'm taking a shower, then I want to know why the hell you two are here." He grabbed his duffel bag tiredly, throwing it over his shoulder and bringing it into the bathroom. With one last final thought, he turned around and sighed. "Grimm. Ikkaku Maderame and Renji Abarai. Ik _cock_ u, Pineapple, meet Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. I got shot and showed up at his doorstep bleeding out."

With that, he staggered off, intending to take a good long shower and try to forget about the troubles of the last few days. Besides, he had to piss like a racehorse. He didn't feel like dealing with bullshit before he did.

* * *

Grimmjow watched "Ichigo" leave, then turned to the two motherfuckers in his home apprehensively.

"So, why are ya here? Seems like ya coulda called him or something instead of breaking into my house, right?" He cocked an eyebrow, sitting on the arm of his couch and crossing his legs at the ankles. He snorted when he realized he was still in his boxers.

He hadn't known what to think when some bleeding stranger showed up on his doorstep. He was honestly worried that it was someone from jail that he might've owed a favor. He didn't recognize those dull grey eyes though, or the sharp amber ones beneath the contacts. So he'd let the man into is home, ending up fucking pissed when he woke up tied up in his own bed, a gun cocked and aimed at his head.

Normally, no one got away with that shit unless Nel was involved, because she was the only person he'd really ever loved, with the exception of their parents back in France. That's where he'd sent her back when he was falsely imprisoned. So he knew for a fact he had nothing to lose, and would've ordinarily got up and at least try to bash the brains out of the motherfucker who'd decided it was okay to restrain the person who'd saved his life. There were certain facts that he couldn't ignore though. This was no punk that didn't know what he was doing. If it were, the other man would've still been cuffed to a piece of furniture in his living room.

He also couldn't ignore that he couldn't slip out of the bonds if he wanted to. They were expertly tied, and if he got up, he'd just fall down like an idiot and crack his skull open on his own damn bed frame. So he'd stuck it out, and soon realized that even if the strange man in his home could probably kill him and leave no trace, he wouldn't. He was weak, not just physically. The guy had some morality left, no matter if he was a killer or not. He couldn't kill someone who'd just saved his life.

So he'd called the man's bluff, and his guess was right. They shot the shit during that day, and he suddenly realized that this man was more than a mysterious asshole who thought he had the right to hold him at gunpoint.

He'd stumbled across someone who was incredibly dedicated to his job. Someone who loved his little brother and sisters more than anyone ever would. Someone who couldn't go an hour without worrying about people he cared about. Someone who didn't even know how to shoot the shit properly, because he was thinking about what he needed to be doing constantly. Someone who had friends who loved him enough to send him care packages. Someone insanely loyal to everyone around him. So even though Grimmjow considered himself an intolerable asshole, he felt himself start to care about the man in a way that just wasn't general sympathy.

After he worked that out, he realized that even after the guy healed up, he wanted to know whoever it was behind the mask of a fake name and appearance. He'd even spilled his guts to the stranger _,_ and he usually wasn't one to talk about his situation unless it was with the other members of that fucked up prison gang, The Espada. The swords. The weapons. Whatever you wanted to call them.

So he'd pried drunkenly, and they ended up fucking. The stranger even topped him, and he'd never felt the urge to bottom for anyone. After a day? Fuck that. It might've been the best sex he ever had though, had he known the man's name. His lower body even ached like a bitch.

He usually went to a sleazy bar, picked up the least diseased looking guy there, brought him home, and shamelessly kicked him out the next day, telling the annoyed or sad man that he knew what this was. He was filled with some fucked up squishy feeling with the stranger though; he didn't want the man to leave. He'd secretly been overjoyed when he woke up at the stranger's twin yelling and cheering that the two of them had indeed fucked. He was glad to feel the warmth tied to his side, and even glad to get a sappy bitch kiss in the morning. It wasn't like he didn't like it, no matter if it was a little too cute.

Now he had a name for the man who'd had the nerve to do all this, and he'd never forget it. _Ichigo._ It was familiar, but he shrugged it off. It was probably the name of one of the women he'd fucked in his earlier days. Maybe it was just familiar because it translated to Strawberry, for Christ's sake. He thought it was hilarious that a male assassin was named after a girly fruit. He knew he could put that to good use later, so he filed it away for later use.

"You can't really say everything over the phone. Some shit is far too sensitive for that." Renji, or Pineapple groaned from the floor, getting up unsteadily. He didn't see Ichigo as a violent person, probably because he'd never borne witness to that side of him, but he'd been able to see the sheer force that was thrown into that kick easily. That was his _friend_ too. His own abdomen tensed as he winced, hoping that he'd never get that treatment himself. Renji was huge too, with intense looking black tribal tattoos that trailed down from his eyebrows to his feet, probably.

"Okay, but why the hell are ya _here?_ " He stressed, cocking a dark blue eyebrow and scowling. "It's not like he changed his address in the system. He's only been here for a fuckin' day." He hated unwelcome guests. Ichigo was okay, the albino twin was okay by extension (plus, he'd brought booze and probably convinced Ichigo to sleep with him), but his place wasn't some kind of business hub. Judging by the guns in the hands of Ikkaku and Renji, this was a business call.

"Oh, Shiro told us where he was. You met his twin brother, right? Creepy, annoying, loud? That's him." Ikkaku said, rubbing his bald head and smirking. There was suddenly a muffled shout of _"Baka!"_ coming from the bathroom, and a loud bang. He laughed out loud this time, brushing off the annoyance he felt. It shouldn't be such a big deal to tell the guy who saved your life your brother's name, right? He did understand though, for all of his internal and sometimes external bitching. The shower finally started up, signaling that Ichigo had given up on eavesdropping.

"By the way, what's his fuckin deal with information? You guys don't seem to give as much of a shit." Shiro had seemed concerned too, but not overly so. The bald one answered this time, flopping down beside him on the couch and picking his teeth. "Me and Renj aren't spies or assassins. We're the ones who run the show, you know- detectives. Ichi and his brother are pretty much the best of the spies though, so if they aren't telling you things, they probably know best. The names though? Ichigo overreacts when it comes to that, because spies tend to disappear." Renji the Pineapple picked up the slack that Ikkaku left, after he dropped into the Lazy Boy.

"Yeah. Some bitch that he fucked on a mission ran around looking for him a few years back, and the Yakuza that he was undercover for at the time hunted him down, threating to kill one of his cute little sisters. Yuzu." His bright eyes widened in shock, and he started to regret prying so hard. Then he was back to pissed, because what did Ichigo think he was, some kind of bitch who'd run his mouth all around Tokyo?

The red haired caught the look that must have been on his face, plain as day. sighing. "Don't take it personally. He's kind of a tight ass when it comes to the agency. I'm pretty damn surprised he didn't take off the second he could. Take it as a compliment." He did, filing that away for further use as well.

He looked both of them over, belatedly realizing that they were dressed in suit pants and FBI windbreakers, Ikkaku wearing a white rumpled dress shirt and navy pants, Renji wearing black and tan. They both carried their guns in black holsters clipped to their belts. Huh. He wasn't sure how he felt about having the FBI in his house, but he let it go.

"Yeah, sure." He shook his head slowly, feeling as if he'd gotten himself into another fucking mess, straight out of prison. Grimmjow shut his cyan eyes in a long, sighing blink. Walking to the kitchen slowly, half naked but uncaring, he drawled: "Want some coffee? I feel like he's gonna be a while." They said yes, and he shuffled off lazily, wondering when he started to become a servant in his own damn home.

* * *

By the time he was done with the four cups of coffee (he figured Ichigo would want one) the man of the hour was out of the shower, wearing grey contacts, black socks, a faded _Pepsi_ t-shirt, and dark blue jeans. They grinned and thanked him when he handed them their mugs, but he got the distinct feeling that they didn't want him around to listen to their conversation. That was alright with him, because he didn't want to be too involved in anything that could further fuck up his mind and criminal record. So he walked off after giving Ichigo's back a friendly looking clap, hoping to down his coffee, take a shower of his own, and put some clothes on.

He caught muffled bits of conversation from his bedroom, but he didn't care enough to listen. Grimmjow liked to think that he led a simple, undemanding life as of late. He was lucky enough to score a cushy managerial position and barely need to go to work. He paid his taxes. He'd done his time. So he didn't want to be dumped back into anything serious very soon. It was enough fucking work to house spies and ex-felons (when the gang got back together). He didn't want anything more than that do do with them.

Unless it was Ichigo, he thought, silently crossing the hall and slipping into the bathroom. Ichigo was okay with him.

After taking a hot shower (thankfully easing some of the pain in his backside), dressing in jeans and a black t-shirt with a dark red Queen logo branded across the front, and dumping his mug in the sink, his eyebrows shot up to his freshly gelled blue hair when he heard a hesitant call from the living room.

"Grimm? Can you come in here for a second?" Ichigo asked, more reluctant than a cat in a bath, and with less emotion then he'd ever heard in the spy's voice. He got a nagging feeling that something shitty was going down, so he stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Yeah, sure."

By the time he'd shuffled back into the living room, the air was tense and cold. Ichigo was scowling at his friends darkly. The bald one was glaring back just as heatedly, and the red haired one just looked uncomfortable, staring into his empty mug like it he thought it might save him. Grimmjow sat down heavily, trying to figure out what the fuck he'd missed in thirty minutes. Maybe he should've been eavesdropping.

"Look, Grimmjow…" Renji started, trying to break the ice with a dull pick. He should've had a sign taped to his forehead that said "I really wish I were somewhere else right now." Grimmjow had to fight a grin. "We need you to tell us everything you know about Aizen and The Espada." His expression darkened. Well, at least he wasn't fighting a grin anymore.

"Why the fuck should I do that?" He growled, looking for someone to blame and landing on his houseguest, because why the hell not? He'd given that info away in confidence. Grimmjow would've gone to the cops long ago if he thought it might be useful, and he knew it wouldn't be. Nothing would stick, because Sosuke Aizen was who he was. Billionaire. Charming. He had legions of dedicated men who would follow him into the gates of hell. He was lucky enough to be away from that, and he didn't want to have to start over again by, for lack of a better term, _snitching_.

"No reason." Ichigo cut in flatly, shooting Renji a dry look. "They just don't have any leads. So they came to see if I would do some digging. I'm willing to. I just have one request, and the bureau can't fulfill it. _Pricks._ " He muttered under his breath, and then clenched his fists. "So, instead of doing something that's incredibly easy to do, they want to pump you for information, because tweedle dee and tweedle dumb here don't know where else to turn."

Ikkaku decided he'd heard enough before Grimmjow even had a chance to toss in his two cents. "Don't be such a smartass! You don't seem to get that we're dealing with the most dangerous man that's surfaced in recent time-" One hand slammed on the table, the few things that were scattered on it rattling and jumping. "And you won't do shit, even though you're the only one who can at this point. Why? Because you have a _hero complex._ "

Renji cringed, fiddling with the handle of his white mug. 'Yeah, same here man. Same here.' Grimmjow thought, although he was veering more towards the pissed side of the scale than the "I really wish I were somewhere else right now" side. He hated the thought of putting Ichigo right into Aizen's feelers, even though he knew the man could handle himself. He wouldn't wish the unfeeling brunette on his worst enemy. If the only tradeoff was snitching, he could do it, even though he had a feeling something bad was going to happen if he did. 'There's always the fuckin' witness protection program,' he thought dryly.

"You think _giving a shit_ is a hero complex? Fuck you. The agency missed this case a long time ago, so why is it so damn important now?" Ichigo growled, crossing his arms and glaring at the bald man next to him.

"Ichi. You know why." Renji spoke up lowly, finally meeting Ichigo's eyes with a coldness and severity that explained to Grimmjow why this seemingly prissy fuck was a detective.

"Do I?" Ichigo replied, this time glaring at his feet. The blunette was waiting for an opportunity to ask, once again, what the fuck was going on. Although, seemed like everyone had forgotten he was there.

"You can't carry the whole world on your shoulders, Ichigo! It's too damn heavy!" Renji sat forward, the uncomfortable air around him gone at the flick of a switch. The room went quiet, and Grimmjow saw that as an opportunity of sorts.

"What in the hell is going on?" The blue haired man asked, irritated. Ichigo started to protest, but cold blue eyes stopped him from doing so. Grimmjow was telling him to fuck off and let them go on, in far less words. Renji continued in a cold voice.

"Ichigo worked his case. He figured most everything out about Momo Hinamori's death before we even got a chance to ask for his help. He was only twenty-one." That was a story that he hadn't heard, and by the annoyed look on Ichigo's face, he probably wouldn't have ever heard it.

"From that point on, he knew he would be a target. He knew that as soon as Aizen got out of prison, he had to either pin the guy down with something that would stick, kill him, hide, or die. He isn't partial to hiding or dying, and the only thing that might stick is the unjust imprisonment of ten people. He needs something that we can't provide so he can go digging. We can either involve you in this, or Ichigo can assassinate him. The government won't order an assassination on Aizen, because he has too many connections up there though, so he'd be tried for murder and wouldn't win. What's left?

We need your help. It won't be easy, but we need the help of the Espada to put Aizen away for good, and save Ichigo's life, one way or another." The redhead finished, staring Grimmjow dead in the eyes.

The blunette cursed under his breath, wondering what he did in a past life to deserve all of this shit. "I'll call up the guys." He said, knowing that the chance to put Aizen away for life was enough to get everyone on board, even though that's not why he was doing it. Damn it. He kissed normality goodbye, and she winked at his misery before she pranced off.

* * *

 _ **I'm tired. It's late. I love this chapter though, man. That was my first full lemon, and I'm feelin' good about it. I'd like to thank everyone that reviews and shit, because it makes me happy and makes my stories better. Since I feel like I'm going to pass out though, I'm going to make my note short and less fun than usual.**_

 _ **I don't own Bleach. I wish. I do own a bottle of Clorox though. Badum tiss.**_

 _ **Please review and follow and favorite! I appreciate your feedback**_

 _ **Much love,**_

 _ **TheSextaEspada**_


	5. THE SHOW MUST GO ON (update)

**_This is not a chapter, but I'm still writing this story._**

 ** _Hi! So I've been on a hiatus. A looong hiatus. I was looking through your comments for suggestions, and I'm so sorry. The love and support you guys give me every time I post a new chapter is beautiful, and I couldn't be more grateful. It really breaks my heart when I see those "when are you gonna update?" Comments especially, because I know the pain._**

 ** _The waiting. And the waiting. And the waiting. I know you guys only get one chapter a year from me, and for that I'm sorry, but the one thing I have to ask of you is that you continue to check back, because all of my new chapters are at least halfway finished (Seven Devils, Stranger Blues, and my personal favorite, Creep) and I have so many more ideas for these and more. The point is, don't be discouraged, because I appreciate you lovely people who bother to read the stuff I write, and I love writing Fanfiction (even though I never do it). Most importantly, because I don't want you to think I'm one of those authors that seemingly fell off of the face off the earth, and will probably never finish their stories. Like I said, I know the pain. *heavy sigh*_**

 ** _So, I'm writing a short little update for the wonderful people who follow my stuff. Basically, what I'm saying is…_**

 ** _It ain't over till it's over (and it's not)._**

 ** _Thank you so much for following whichever story you're following (I posted this on all three of my stories. Sue me. But don't, because I'm actually quite afraid of being sued…), and I will see you with the next update of that story. I know I say this at the end of almost every chapter, but I really do appreciate all the love you've given my work over the years, and I'm happy that I make you guys happy (once every eternity)._**

 ** _With extra love this time, because I really feel like a piece of shit for making you guys wait so long,_**

 ** _TheSextaEspada_**


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